


why don't we rewrite the stars (changing the world to be ours)

by TheWritingManiac



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: Character Death, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Growing Up, Reincarnation, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-19
Updated: 2019-09-19
Packaged: 2020-10-24 05:15:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 31,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20700533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheWritingManiac/pseuds/TheWritingManiac
Summary: Percy is six when he learns he can travel in time, and nine when he tries to change the past. He certainly doesn’t expect a blond girl about his age to stop him, telling him bossily that she’s a Time Guardian (and he definitely doesn’t expect to see her again). Percabeth, AU





	why don't we rewrite the stars (changing the world to be ours)

**Author's Note:**

> originally posted for GollyGeeWhiz on fanfiction 12/25/17

Percy first travels in time when he blows out the candle for his sixth birthday.

To be perfectly fair, it’s not his _fault._

It starts with his birthday candles. See, _normally_ his mom just buys a pack of the cheap, thin cake candles—always the same electric-blue color—from the bargain bin at Target. She always makes a big deal about picking out the best ones, since sometimes they’re kind of bent or broken, and sticking them all over in the blue icing.

Percy, of course, always giggles as she pretends not to know how old he is, and then he has to count them out for her, because _mama, I’m not a baby anymore, here, lemme do it—_and then they light them together, Sally’s warm, soft hands gently guiding his shaky small ones with the lighter.

It’s _tradition_. And Percy loves it, and Sally loves it, and his life is perfect until the year he turns six. Percy’s old enough by then to know that he and his mom aren’t rich, that his mom sometimes cries late at night while sorting through the endless stack of crisp white envelopes demanding money.

And it’s not fair_, _Percy knows, because his mom is the best lady in the world. She doesn’t deserve to live in the old apartment where the heating sometimes goes out in the middle of winter for _days, _or having to work all the time, or never being able to afford new clothes for herself.

He might only be five—almost six—but he knows she most definitely doesn’t deserve _Gabe, _their landlord, who smells like an old gym sock and farts worthy of a barnyard.

Percy hates him, in fact, and he tells his mom so, but she shushes him with a tight smile and a worried hug. He can tell she’s worried, because she pulls him tight against her and her hands are shaking.

“I need you to be very nice to Mr. Gabe, do you hear me?” she says, her breath hot against his neck. He squirms a little; no matter how much he adores his mom, the other kids in kindergarten teased him for _weeks _after he kissed his mom’s cheek when she dropped him off one morning.

“Okay, mama,” he says obediently, and she pulls back a little, the freckles on her cheeks crinkling with she smiles at him and kisses his forehead. The worried wrinkle between her eyebrows doesn’t disappear, but it does fade a bit as her eyes soften.

“Thank you, Percy,” she says. “Now, I have work at in an hour, but do you want to go color a picture with me?”

And of course Percy clamors, _yes, yes! _and she laughs and ruffles his hair, and it feels like it’s back to normal.

Of course, it’s not, and that becomes increasingly apparent as Gabe starts staying over at their apartment, at _night. _He wakes up in the morning to find Gabe on their ratty couch, a beer in his hand as he watches the news, and his mom in the kitchen. She smiles when he comes in, arms open for a hug, but there’s a bruise on her collarbone when her shirt slips down, and her eyes are scared.

But suddenly they have enough money to pay the bills, and Sally explains that Gabe is allowing them pay less for the apartment. Percy thinks, for just a second, that maybe Gabe isn’t so bad after all. As she turns away, he catches a glimpse of his mom’s face, and he doesn’t know _why _she looks so broken, but he promises to himself that he will never stop hating Gabe.

_Never._

And then one night, he hears his mom sobbing, and Percy climbs out of bed and patters to her bedroom, ignoring her rule of _stay in bed _just this once.

He pauses at the doorway when he reaches his mom’s bedroom, because Gabe’s snoring on one side of her bed, and she’s staring at herself in the cracked mirror on the wall, and she’s crying_._

And Percy can’t just let his mom cry_, _so he runs to her and hugs her, and she gasps with surprise before hugging him back, just as tightly.

“It’s okay, mama,” he whispers into her hair, which smells like the cheap flowery shampoo that she uses. Her hair smells like home_, _and it’s soft against his cheek; all he can think is that she’s is the best lady in the world, and she doesn’t deserve this.

He may only be five, going on six, but he knows his mom is lying when she says, cheek damp with tears, “Yeah, squirt. It’s going to be okay.”

But the next day his mom pretends like nothing happened and Percy doesn’t know what to do, except follow her lead, so—they don’t talk about that night again.

Besides, she tells him at breakfast that next Monday is his _birthday, _and he chatters about the Lego set he wants, and she smiles at him. And Percy naïvely thinks that, at least for now, that everything might be okay.

•

On Saturday, he and his mom go to Target like they do every year for his birthday, and look for the aqua-blue pack of discount candles that they always get.

The problem is that they’re out_, _and Percy refuses to have anything else. He doesn’t know how to celebrate without that special pack of candles; it just wouldn’t be his _birthday_.

He shoots down his mom’s half-hearted suggestions of green or pink candles, the only two colors they have left, and she seems to be at her wit’s end before _finally_, she finds a chunky blue _6 _candle, hiding behind some streamers.

“What about this, Percy?” she asks, and Percy grins.

On Sunday, they spend four hours making the cake, covering both themselves and the kitchen with blue food coloring. Percy throws flour in her hair, and Sally shrieks and chases him around the kitchen armed with a batter-covered spatula and a bottle of vanilla.

They’re both in desperate need of a bath by the time the violently blue cake is finally in the oven. Percy knows the old thing sometimes breaks, and one time smelly black smoke started pouring from it and they had to go to the park for the rest of the day while the apartment aired out, but. His mom _promises_ nothing will happen to his cake, and if his mom promises then Percy knows it’ll turn out alright.

The next night, his sixth birthday, Sally proudly lights the candle and sets it in front of him, singing Happy Birthday in a slightly wobbly soprano. Percy thinks it’s perfect, and his mouth hurts from smiling, because it’s his birthday and his mom made him a blue cake and she’s the best mom in the entire _world_.

He takes in a deep breath, then blows out the candle.

Immediately, everything goes dark, and it feels like he’s falling down a never-ending tunnel. Percy tries to scream, but nothing comes out, and it feels like the blackness swallows him whole.

Then he feels warm, and something soft rubs against his feet, and he hears laughter.

He blinks, and opens his eyes.

“Happy birthday, Percy!” his mom cheers, but—it isn’t his mom.

Well, it _is, _but not his mom that he just saw. She looks younger, and happier, and the wrinkles between her eyes are completely gone. Her brown hair is longer, and curled, and Percy blinks in confusion, because _what’s happening?_

“Happy birthday, Percy!” a man’s voice booms, and Percy turns his head, startled.

There’s a man sitting next to Sally, inky hair sticking up in all directions and bright green eyes sparkling like jewels in his tan face. Percy tries to speak, but all that comes out is a gurgle.

He looks down, and he’s in a onesie_. _He wrinkles his nose. Why is he in a _onesie?_

Percy looks around, and other things are different, too. For one, he’s not in the falling-down apartment anymore—this is a _nice _house, and the high-chair he’s sitting in connects to a long, shiny wooden table, like the rich people in movies always have. There’s a tiny cake in front of him, with exactly one candle on it. The cake is just chocolate—_boring—_but the candle is blue, and Percy grins.

So he somehow went back in time to his first birthday.

_Cool._

Percy looks up as the man grins, putting an arm around Sally, and Percy thinks vaguely that he looks like someone he knows.

And then he realizes.

That’s his _dad._

His mom has told him vague stories about his dad; they’d met while she was working as a waitress, and he was with his family at the beach.

_He was rich, and was going to Harvard that fall, and his parents didn’t approve, but none of that even mattered when we were together, _he remembers his mom telling him. He used to beg her for stories about his dad, almost like bedtime stories. Every word she told him he had tucked away in his mind, filling in the missing images.

_He always insisted you had my smile, but you have his hair, and his eyes, _she had said.

His parents are laughing, and the world spins.

Percy’s six, and he knows that these are his _parents. _For the first time since he can remember, he’s with his dad and his mom, and they’re happy and laughing and Percy kind of wants to cry.

So he does. Sally’s young, laughing face crinkles into slight frown. “Aw, baby, what’s wrong?” she asked, leaning towards him.

“Here, I’ll get him,” his dad offers, and he unbuckles the high chair so he can take Percy out. “C’mere, squirt,” he says, his grin loud and happy, as Percy reaches up.

Percy clings to him, wrapping his arms around his dad’s neck. The stubble on his dad’s face scratches his cheeks a little, and he smells like the ocean and faintly of his mom’s flowery shampoo, the kind she still uses.

Or at least, she still uses in the future. It kind of makes Percy’s head hurt.

His mom comes up behind him. “Is he okay?” she asks. “Does he need his diaper changed?”

Percy sniffles a bit and pulls back. _Diaper? _He doesn’t wear _diapers_. Diapers are for babies.

Then he remembers that he currently _is _a baby, so.

The next few hours he spends with his parents. They take him down to the beach, and he rushes into the waves with his dad, coughing and crying when a particularly big wave knocks him down, and saltwater gets in his mouth. His dad swings him into his arms, and Percy squeals happily when the next wave hits him, because his dad’s arms are warm and safe and secure, and he knows nothing can happen to him here.

Sally beams at them from the sand, and his dad’s booming laugh fills the salty air, and Percy thinks he’s never been happier in the entire six years he’s been alive.

Well, technically, the _one _year he’s been alive, but.

When the sun’s gone down and it’s beginning to get a little chilly, his dad brings him back up to the beach, to where his mom is sitting on a beach towel and reading a book. She wraps him in a towel, pretending to scold him about the sand in his hair. His dad produces a picnic basket with leftover slices of chocolate cake, and Percy squeals “Daddy!” without even thinking about it.

Of course, both his parents freeze, and Percy thinks he’s done something wrong before Sally gasps out, “Poseidon—his first word –”

And then his dad scoops him up, and Percy sees his sea-green eyes are shiny and happy and proud_._ Percy beams, because this is his _dad, _and apparently, he was Percy’s first word.

Of course, it can’t last. He doesn’t exactly think about the logistics of time-travel, because he’s six and the actual _details _of how he suddenly went back in time to his first birthday aren’t as interesting as soaking in every moment of his parents’ presence.

But that night, after Sally sets him in his crib and his dad hums an old folk song until he falls asleep, Percy’s jolted awake. He frowns, trying to remember where he is, and smiles when he remembers the past few hours of his life.

And then he’s whirled into the familiar, sucking darkness, and he can’t breathe, can’t see, can’t think, and suddenly with a popping sound he’s back at their tiny kitchen table and the blue cake is in front of him.

The _6 _candle on his cake is still glowing, white-hot from the flame before Percy’s breath extinguished it, and he sees Sally—his mom, with the faint wrinkle lines around her eyes and short hair—frowning worriedly.

“Percy, are you okay—” she begins, but doesn’t finish, because everything goes black and Percy feels himself sliding to the floor before passing out.

•

When he wakes up later in his bed, Sally is sitting next to him with the worry lines evident on her face. She leans forward as his eyes flutter open, his vision a little blurry.

“Percy? Percy!” she says, and her voice sounds shaky.

“I’m okay, mama,” he assures her, trying to sit up.

“What happened?” she demands as she helps him sit up. “You just fell, and you hit your head on the floor, and I was so _worried, _baby. I would have gone to the doctor, but we can’t afford it, and I just—” her voice breaks.

Percy hates seeing his mom sad, so he lays his hand on her arm. “Mama, was my first word _daddy?_” he asks, careful.

“Yes—how did you know?” she asks, confusion flickering on her features.

Percy takes a deep breath. “Because when I blew out the cake, I think I went back in time,” he admits. It’s not too unbelievable to him, but he knows grownups don’t see stuff like that. His mom is the best grownup he knows, but—this is probably stretching it.

“You _what?_” she asks, in an uncomfortably firm tone.

Percy shrugs. “I blew out the candle, and suddenly everything was dark, and it felt like I was falling,” he begins. “And then I woke up, and you were laughing and telling me happy birthday, only it wasn’t—it wasn’t you. It was you from when I was one, because it was my very first birthday, and I wore _diapers,_” he adds, because it’s an important detail.

His mom is raising an eyebrow, though, and he scrambles for something to tell her that will make her believe him, because even the best grownups need _proof _and all that stuff.

“Dad was there,” he says hesitantly.

Sally’s eyes grow wide. “Well—yes, he was there for your first birthday,” she admits. “But I might have told you that before.”

Percy looks her steadily in the eye. “We had cake, and I got it all over my face _and _my bib, and Dad said I looked like I had fallen in the mud. We went down to the beach, and a wave knocked me over, so Dad carried me and we jumped in the waves together, and you were on the beach reading a book.”

His moms eyes are all shiny and wet, like his dad’s when Percy spoke for the first time.

“Then Dad brought out a picnic basket, and we had more cake, and then we went back to the house, and you read me _Goodnight Moon _while Dad played with your hair, and then he sang me a song before he went to bed.”

His mom has tears rolling down her face. “Percy, what was the song?”

He takes a deep breath and sings, his high voice trembling.

“_Hush, little baby, don’t say a word, _

_ Daddy’s gonna buy you a mockingbird,_

_ And if that mockingbird don’t sing, _

_ Daddy’s gonna buy you a diamond ring.”_

His mom’s hand is over her mouth, and her shoulders are shaking with sobs. Percy crawls out of the mess of his covers and wraps his thin arms around her neck. “It’s okay, mom,” he says quietly. “Don’t cry. It’s okay.”

It’s a few more minutes before she speaks again; Percy quietly rocks in her arms. “That—that was your dad’s favorite song to sing to you,” she manages. “And I remember that night like it was yesterday.”

“See, Mama, I _told _you,” Percy says triumphantly.

“I—I have no idea how that happened, or if it’ll ever happen again,” she says. “But Percy, you passed out for _three hours. _You have to be careful. Please—” her voice cracks, “please don’t travel in time again.”

“I won’t, mama,” Percy promises, and he plans to stick by it.

At least, he tries, until his ninth birthday.

•

See, Gabe becomes a permanent fixture in Percy’s life; whenever Percy gets home from school, Gabe is on the couch, nursing a beer and watching TV. Sometimes his poker buddies come, with their foul-smelling cigarettes and leering smiles, to play a game with him.

On those days, Percy just drops off his backpack in his room and climbs out the fire escape. He doesn’t go anywhere in particular; it’s New York City, and he can just walk on the sidewalk for hours before turning around and going back home the Same way he came. One time, he asks directions to Central Park, and it takes him a while, but he finally makes it.

That night, he gets home after dark, and his mom is waiting up for him. Gabe has gone to bed, and Percy can hear his snores as he quietly closes the kitchen door.

“Percy Jackson, where have you been?” Sally asks sternly as he turns around. Percy jumps.

“I—I went to Central Park,” he says sheepishly.

His mom looks weary. “Why, Percy?” she asks, and Percy shrugs.

“Because Gabe was here, and his friends…” Percy trails off, and his mom nods, understanding. She still looks tired; not like she hasn’t gotten enough sleep, but just _done. _

But Sally drops the conversation, and Percy continues to spend his afternoons out of the house. He doesn’t really have any friends; the kids at school make fun of him because his threadbare clothes and meager lunches, and his teachers are always annoyed with him because he’s not very good at reading. The thing is, Percy can understand what they’re talking about; he just can’t actually read the books they tell him to. The letters dance of the page and rearrange themselves, and Percy’s scared to ask about it because _what if it’s just that way for everybody and no one mentions it?_

He’s okay, though. He has his mom, and he likes taking walks by himself. It’s fine.

At least, until the day before his ninth birthday, and it’s _not._

He comes home to find his mom crumpled on the ground in the kitchen, a gash in her head and a puddle of blood under her. He _freezes, _because this can’t be happening. The prone figure on the floor can’t be his mom, who’s vibrant and full of life and snorts at her own jokes and eats cookies with him until they’re both sick.

But it _is._

He calls 911; the operator tells him to stay calm, not to touch his mom, but he can’t help it. The operator is still talking calmly, steadily, when Percy lets the phone fall from his fingertips and walks with shaking steps to where Sally’s laying on the ground, her eyes closed, and brushes back her hair from her eyes.

Her forehead is cold and her face white, and Percy knows she’s gone.

He sobs, because it can’t be true. It _can’t. _The paramedics come and load her onto a stretcher; a medic gently tells him to _let go of her hand, sweetheart, let go—_but he _can’t, _and he kicks and screams as they take his mother away from him.

She’s dead, he learns later at the hospital; she’d been dead before the medics had even gotten there, and he’d _known _that, but.

They ask him what happened, and he explains dully how he got home from school and found her like that. He even remembers to add the details, like how the door was locked and it usually never was, and how Gabe and his friends were conspicuously absent, and—

And then he realizes.

_Gabe._

That man is the reason his mom is dead. It wasn’t a mugger or someone breaking into their house, it had been _Gabe, _and Percy feels sick as he tells them.

He throws up, retching and gasping; no one blinks an eye. The nice lady nurse pats his back, wipes his mouth, and mercifully doesn’t say anything; for that, Percy’s thankful. He can remember in vivid detail the time he got the stomach flu and his mom fed him ice chips and wiped his mouth after throwing up.

The fact that his mom is just—_gone, _hits him like a brick, and he sobs and screams until his voice is gone and his lungs are raw.

The nurse takes him to a little white room with a small bed in the corner after his tears are spent, helping him change out of his vomit-sodden clothes and into a pair of too-big pajamas she produces from a cabinet that smells like antiseptics and cleaner.

Percy knows he won’t be able to fall asleep; every time he closes his eyes, all he can see is his mom, white skin and a red puddle underneath her, on the floor of the kitchen. When he does fall asleep, nightmares torment until he wakes up screaming hoarsely, his voice already gone.

The clock blinks 3:24 AM, and Percy realizes it’s his ninth birthday.

He crawls from the bed and pads down the brightly-lit hospital halls until he reaches the kitchen. No nurses see him; he ducks around corners and tiptoes. His tears are gone, because—

Percy knows how to get his mom back.

When he finally reaches the kitchen, he checks the drawers and cabinets; eventually, he finds a half-empty box of matches. They’re not candles, but he thinks they’ll do.

He sticks seven matches into a cup of chocolate pudding from the fridge, lights them carefully, and closes his eyes, praying _please, let it work. Let the magic work again._

Then he blows out the makeshift candles; everything goes black, and he feels like he’s falling.

His last thought is, _it worked._

•

He wakes up with a start, and looks down. He’s in his bed back home, and yes, he can remember these striped train pajamas; this is the night of his seventh birthday. He glances at the old digital clock next to his bedside. 3:35 AM, it says in blinking red letters, and Percy smiles.

He tiptoes out of his bed and into the kitchen. His socks made little noise on the wooden floor, and he glances down onto the worn linoleum.

In two years, this is where his mom dies. On the ground, with a puddle of blood underneath her, unable to defend herself. Percy feels a surge of anger burst through him, and he silently takes a kitchen knife from the drawer and turns to the hallway.

It’s dark, but Percy knows every single crack in this floor, every place that creaks when he steps on it, or has a splinter of woods that sticks into his sock.

He reaches the door and can hear Gabe’s snores, hears him grunt as he turns over on the bed.

His fist tightens on the knife as he steps inside.

Percy takes a moment to look at his mom, who’s sleeping peacefully on her side of the bed. The worry lines that normally resided on her face are smoothed; relaxed. She has nothing to fear or worry about, and Percy basks in being able to see her like this.

Then he remembers he never will see her again if he doesn’t do this right, and he turns to the other side of the bed, where Gabe snorts in his sleep like a drunk pig.

Percy steps silently towards him, righteous anger turning his vision red. This is the man who kills his mom in the future, who destroys his life, who takes from him the only family he’s ever known.

He raises the knife over Gabe’s chest, closes his eyes, and—

Everything goes black again.

“What?” Percy asks bewilderedly. One second he was in his mom’s bedroom, about to kill Gabe so his mom will stay alive and well in the future, and then—

And then he was back in that space of endless black, where no time seems to even exist.

It hits him, in that moment, that he _failed. _He didn’t kill Gabe, and his mom is still going to die in the future.

He screams, dropping to his knees, because he _can’t_ have failed. These are the facts of his life: he’s nine years old and he loves blue candy and he hates math and he _needs his mom. _

“You can’t change time, Percy,” someone says, and Percy opens his eyes again.

There’s a girl next to him; she looks to be about his age, maybe a little older, with short brown hair, wearing jeans and a white sweater.

“What?” Percy asks, jaw dropped as he scrambles backwards. “Who are you?”

She raises an eyebrow, and her eyes are a clear, piercing grey that look too old for her youthful face, almost like they’ve seen too much—as though she’s been alive for too long. “My name is Annabeth, and I’m a Time Guardian,” she tells him matter-of-factly.

“A _what?_” Percy asks, the events of the past twelve hours suddenly leaving his mind as he studies this new phenomenon.

She rolls her eyes and huffs a stray curl from in front of her eyes. “A _Time Guardian,_ idiot,” she proclaims, because _obviously _he should know what that is. “I protect Time itself from people who would wish to change the past. Like you, for example,” she adds shrewdly, staring at him with narrowed eyes like she was trying to dissect him using telekinesis.

Honestly, at this point Percy wouldn’t even be surprised if she could.

“But you’re like myage,” he says, brow furrowing. “I can’t even pass a test in math, and you’re guarding time, or whatever?”

The guardian—Annabeth—raises her eyebrow bossily again. Percy wonders if her face can get stuck like that. “I’m actually age two hundred and nineteen years, three months, thirteen days, four hours, six minutes, and…” she checks a silver watch on her left wrist. “Forty-seven seconds, to be exact.”

His jaw drops again; hisface might stick like that, at this rate.

“How can you be _two hundred _years old?” he asks in awe.

Annabeth looks affronted. “Two hundred years isn’t actually that old,” she replies haughtily. “One of my friends is over a thousand. But back to the subject at hand—I protect time, and youwere trying to change it.”

“But—I have to change it,” Percy protests desperately, the memories flooding back. “My mom’s dead, and _Gabe—_” his voice shakes. “He killed her. And so I have to kill him before he does.”

She lays a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Percy, it doesn’t work like that,” she says gently. “You can’t change the past, or Time would just—” she gestures wildly, “unravel_._ And even if you could, well—there would be consequences you couldn’t even imagine.”

Percy’s only nine years old, and he can’t imagine what consequences could be worse than his mom _dying_. “What kind of consequences?” he demands. He can feel the beginning of tears sting his eyes, but he blinks them away resolutely.

He’s cried enough today. Now he’s just angry.

Annabeth sighs, like she’s heard his words before. “How about I show you, instead?” she suggests, and Percy nods.

She takes his hand, and her fingers are soft and cool under his cold, clammy touch.

He closes his eyes, and feels like he’s falling.

•

Later, Percy reflects that it was a bit like _A Christmas Carol, _only Annabeth was the ghost of the past, future, _and _present.

At the time, though, he merely thinks _I’m going to die._

There’s a whirlwind of colors in front of his eyes, and the feeling of falling intensifies, like he’s jumped out of an airplane without a parachute. The curious thing is that there’s no wind whistling in his ears, no actual _sounds. _It’s just—silent.

He thinks absentmindedly that if he were to die, it would be a nice way to go. He could see his mom again and be rid of this bossy Time Guardian girl, and she could get back to her regular job.

It would be a win-win for everyone, honestly—but he doesn’t die, so. There goes that.

They come to a screeching, silent stop, and Percy sees that they’re on the street in front of his apartment complex. The mid-August heat hits him like a blast, and his stomach seems to finally catch up the grinding halt.

He throws up by the side of the road while Annabeth watches unsympathetically.

_Rude, _Percy thinks as he empties his guts and then stands up, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand.

“Are you done?” she asks, raising an eyebrow. Percy scowls, but nods. “Alright then,” she says briskly, but a hint of hesitation makes its way onto her features. “Are—are you sure you want to see this?” she asks quietly.

Percy nods defiantly. “Yes.”

She shrugs, but that wary haze of reluctance and solemnity doesn’t leave her eyes. “Alright, then.” They make their way up the scorching sidewalk. Percy’s about to enter the filthy lobby, but Annabeth takes his hand again, and they actually _fly _up to the window up Percy’s apartment and onto the flimsy balcony.

“_What,_” asks Percy blankly when they’re standing on the balcony.

Annabeth rolls her eyes. “We’re not actually physically here_, _Percy. Flying when you’re technically a ghost is quite easy.”

Percy grumbles, but she gestures to the window with the first hint of sadness in her eyes. “Look.”

He peers into the window and tastes bile.

“This is over thirteen hours ago, about twenty minutes before you get home from school,” Annabeth’s voice, quiet and somber, floats over his shoulder.

Inside, Gabe and his mother are arguing. He can’t make out what they’re saying, but Gabe looks angry and drunk, and he’s waving his arms furiously.

Then it’s like a bubble’s popped in his ears, and he can hear Gabe’s drunken slurring and his mom’s frightened, but stubborn voice.

“…and I won’t pay your gambling debts for you, Gabe,” his mom is saying, weary, but dogged. “It’s bad enough that I can’t pay our rent without you…” she gestures toward her bedroom, and Gabe snorts crudely. “I don’t have enough money to get Percy’s new shoes—the ones he has have had holes for _months, _now, and the new school year just started. His pants are too short, but I can probably just add fabric to those and they can last a while longer.” Sally stares Gabe down. “Whatever I have, I use for my son. I cannot, and will not, pay your debts. They aren’t my responsibility.”

“I think you’ll do what I tell you to,” Gabe slurs, his beefy hand tightening into a fist.

His mother winces, and Percy has never hated Gabe so much in his life. “I’m already working three jobs, Gabe. You _know _that if I could pay the rent, or afford to move, I’d be out of here in a heartbeat, but—”

Gabe raises his voice, and Sally cringes visibly. As she moves, her oversized t-shirt slips down her shoulders, and Percy can see the edge of a dark bruise. He bites his lip so hard he can taste blood.

“Yeah? Well, you’re going to pay my debts, or you’ll be out of this apartment,” Gabe sneers.

“Gabe, I _can’t_,” Sally answers, and for the first time, the defiance has left her voice, and she’s pleading, begging_. _“I have nowhere else to go. No one else has rent this cheap, but I don’t have the funds to pay your debts. _Please, _Gabe—”

“No!” Gabe shouts, stepping closer. “You’re going to pay my debts, or you’re out.”

“Shut up, you fat pig!” Percy shouts, unable to hold it in any longer. He pounds on the window. “We _can’t _pay your stupid debts! Pay them yourself, and leave my mom alone!”

Annabeth’s small hand rests on his shoulder. “They can’t hear you,” she murmurs sadly. “This has already happened. You know how it ends.”

Percy sobs, unable to tear his eyes away. Sally opens her mouth to protest, but Gabe apparently has had enough, and his fat fists rains down on her cringing form unforgivingly. Again and again he hits her, and Annabeth tries to get Percy to turn away—_don’t look, you don’t need to see this—_but he refuses. Trying to shield herself from the blows, his mom loses her footing and stumbles. Gabe’s fist comes down one more time, and she hits her head on the edge of the counter, opening a gash on her forehead.

She crumples to the ground, and Percy screams_, _dropping to his knees until his lungs give out and all he can emit is a hoarse yell. He throws up again; he can’t even imagine what’s left _in _him to throw up, but apparently his body finds something. This time, Annabeth wipes his mouth gently with the edge of her sweater as he sobs.

She touches his hand, and the world turns black again.

Percy doesn’t move, crying until he can’t cry any longer. Finally he looks up at Annabeth with swollen eyes and a snotty nose. “You—you see why I have to kill Gabe, now?” he hiccups. “I _knew _he did it. I knew it.”

Annabeth bites her lip. “And now we move onto what would have happened if you had killed him on your seventh birthday.” She seems uncertain, hesitant. “Are you sure?” she asks again, and Percy can’t imagine anything worse than he just saw, so he nods, wiping his nose.

“Let’s go,” he says, and she seems to give up arguing as she takes his hand.

•

They’re back at his apartment, only it’s nighttime. Police cars surround the complex, lights flashing menacingly.

“Come on,” Annabeth motions with her hand as she walks closer to the building. Percy follows, weaving in between police cars and policeman. There’s an ambulance, and medics are loading a stretcher with a body on it. There’s a sheet covering it, but Percy can see the tell-tale potbelly, and he feels a strange, ugly sense of vengeful satisfaction.

Then he sees his mom, being pulled out of the apartment by two police officers. She’s bewildered and crying; her hair is a mess, like she’s just woken up.

“Percy!” she cries frantically, twisting in the officers’ grips.

“She’s being taken away,” Percy realizes out loud. “They think she did it.”

“Of course,” Annabeth explains. “She was being abused and was the only one in the room. The neighbors heard Gabe’s yell before he died and called the police, and of course, they took Sally.”

“But I did it!” Percy cries vehemently.

“You’re a seven-year-old boy who had no reason to kill his mom’s boyfriend,” Annabeth replies reasonably. “Of course they assume it was your mom, even if she denies it.”

“What happens to her?” Percy asks numbly, watching as the officers force his mom into handcuffs and throw her in a car, slamming the door after her and cutting off her last cry.

“She goes to prison and spends the rest of her life there for manslaughter.” Annabeth’s voice, while sympathetic, is unwavering. “She eventually takes her own life.”

Percy shakes his head numbly. “No, it was me,” he mumbles. “Mama, it was _me. _I’m sorry.”

“You get put in foster care and grow up in the system,” Annabeth continues, ignoring his whispers. “When you turn eighteen, you try to find your mom, but—”

Percy whirls on her. “How do you know that’s going to happen?” he demands angrily. “What if I told them I did it? What if I confessed?”

Annabeth shakes her head. “They wouldn’t believe you. Also, I know this is going to happen because I’m a Time Guardian. I can see what bits and pieces of what _could_ happen, based on certain choices.”

She finishes speaking, and Percy doesn’t respond, simply watching silently as the police officers load up. His younger self is taken, kicking and screaming, from the house, and they load him into the back of another car. Percy can hear himself crying out for his mom, but no one listens.

No one cares; it’s just a seven-year-old boy who wants his mom. Why would they?

“Take me back,” Percy finally says quietly, watching as the police cars drive away into the night. “Annabeth, take me back.”

She acquiesces, taking his hand gently. Once again, they’re in the black nothingness of—well, Percy isn’t quite sure exactly _where _they are.

He asks, trying to keep his mind off the fact that his mom is _dead, _and there’s nothing he can do about it. “Where are we?”

Annabeth considers. “It’s called the Time Vortex, and it’s something like—a place outside time.” Her eyebrows scrunch. “For example—have you read the Chronicles of Narnia?”

Percy nods. It’s one of the first book series that his mom read him when he was little; they would sit on his bed, and she would read. He had loved the talking animals, especially Aslan.

“Well, in _The Magician’s Nephew, _Polly and Digory use the yellow and green rings to get to the Wood between the Worlds, right?” Annabeth asks, and he can tell that she, too, is trying to keep his mind off his mother. He appreciates the effort.

“Yeah, it’s like a forest that has a bunch of little ponds in it, and each pond is a gateway to another world,” Percy supplies, tapping his fingers on his arm restlessly.

Annabeth nods, pleased. “It’s kind of like that. This is what every traveler passes through to get to any point in time. Every single moment can be accessed through this gateway, and time doesn’t exist here.”

“Is that why when I come back from—well, _traveling, _I go back to right when I left?” Percy asks, curious. There’s so much about time traveling that he wants to know, that he wants to find out. It’s a mystery begging to be solved.

“Yes, exactly,” she replies, fidgeting with the hem of her sweater. Percy realizes it’s the first time he’s seen her make an unnecessary movement.

“Also, you said—_other _travelers? There are other people like me?” Percy asks cautiously.

She considers. “Well, there are other people who can travel in time. In fact, a lot ofpeople can—but everyone gets there a different way.”

“Different ways like what?”

The guardian smiles softly, like she’s sharing a secret. “I don’t have time to tell you right now, Percy.”

He tries not to show his disappointment, but Annabeth seems to understand. “I’ll tell you next year, okay?” she says.

“Next year?” Percy’s brow wrinkles in confusion.

She huffs and rolls her eyes; Percy should have known the gentleness wouldn’t last. “Next year, dummy. On your tenth birthday. Just blow out nine candles, and I’ll take care of the rest. ‘Kay?”

He nods, biting his lip. “Thanks, Annabeth.”

Annabeth beams and holds out her hand. “Until next time, Percy.”

Percy tries for a smile. “Next time,” he says, and he touches her fingers.

•

Instantly, he’s back in the dingy hospital kitchen with seven matches still smoking in front of him. Annabeth is gone, and he feels a sudden surge of unexplainable disappointment at her absence.

Hastily, he dumps the remains into the trash and stuffs the box back into the cabinet. On his socked feet, he tiptoes back into his room and lays down on the bed, trying to focus on Annabeth’s goodbye and promise of next year, trying to get the picture of his mom laying on the ground out of his head.

Of course, it doesn’t work; not then, not in the future. Percy wakes up screaming almost every night with horrible nightmares, images of his mom dying under Gabe’s pelting fists carved into his mind. The rest of the night he stays awake, still trembling, afraid to fall asleep lest the dreams invade his mind again.

He finds out through eavesdropping on some social workers that Gabe was put in prison and charged guilty, going to jail for life. Some his old gambling buddies are in the Same prison, and less than a year after Sally’s death, Gabe is jumped in the prison yard, killed because of his debts. Percy doesn’t feel anything when a social worker gently tells him; he _wants_ to, wants to feel that sickly satisfying sense of revenge, but. His mom is already gone, and Gabe is dead too late to fix that.

So he moves on into a life without his mom. He’s put in foster care, and at first he gets passed around from house to house. But in the beginning of December, he gets put into a house with a family called the Underwoods, and it’s not and never will be the life of innocence he had with his mom, but. These people love him, and take care of him, and Percy eventually learns to love them back.

They have one son, Grover, who’s about Percy’s age. They’re both the underdogs at school, and they both love _Lord of the Rings, _and they both think chocolate chip cookies are the best cookies in the world, so. Obviously, they’re best friends within a few weeks.

Grover’s parents are amazing; they’re into gardening and yoga and eating kale, which, okay. Percy hates kale with a vengeance, but it’s the first time in a long time that he feels full after every meal. A few months after he moves in, Grover remarks, a little jealously, that he thinks Percy’s grown. The Underwoods measure him with exclamations of delight, and it turns out he’s grown _three inches._

The Underwoods fuss over Percy and Grover’s grades; Grover’s dad helps them with their English homework, and Mrs. Underwood shows them how to do their math and science projects. Percy gets into swimming, and Grover’s a diehard theatre kid, so after their respective after-school activities Mr. Underwood picks them up and listens to their days on the car ride home.

_Home, _Percy thinks one day as he gets into Mr. Underwood’s faded yellow Volkswagen Bug. It’s weird to even imagine having a home without his mom there, with her blue cookies and flowery shampoo and arms that were always ready for a hug, but. While he misses her each and every day, the therapist the Underwoods take him to every Tuesday has helped a lot. He rarely has nightmares anymore; when on the occasion that an ugly one rears its head on a given night, Mrs. Underwood sits in his room and reads to him until he falls back asleep.

It’s not a perfect life. Percy gets grounded one day after getting into a fight at school; some of the bigger boys had messed with Grover, and a fight started when Percy arrived and punched one of them. He comes home with a bag of frozen peas over one eye and a bleeding cut on his lip, but it’s worth it to see Grover’s shining eyes and grateful grin.

The Underwoods sit them both down for a conversation afterwards; they talk a lot about how _violence is not the answer, _and how the boys are to _get a teacher if something like this ever happens again, _andPercy gets grounded for a week.

His life continues, and it almost becomes a semblance of normal. He goes to the shelter with the Underwoods on the day before Grover’s birthday, when his friend is in theatre practice, and they walk through the cages and cages of yapping dogs before a curly-haired black mutt catches Percy’s eye.

The dog—still in that awkward stage between puppy and adult, all long legs and big ears—licks Percy’s face, and he’s gone.

“Can we get this one?” he begs, and the Underwoods agree.

Grover loves the dog; they name him Blackjack, and he becomes the official third member of their party. They walk him every morning and afternoon, and when the big snowstorm dumps a couple feet of snow in March, the boys take Blackjack sledding with them. It terrifies the poor thing at first, but by the end of the day the puppy jumps onto the sled by himself, wagging his tail furiously.

The only thing that isn’t normal in his life is Percy’s secret.

He doesn’t tell the Underwoods anything about his travels; it seems too unbelievable for even him, let alone people who’ve never experienced it. He doesn’t even tell _Grover, _his best friend in the entire world, because—what if he _is _crazy? What if his mind dreamed up Annabeth and his dad and his first birthday and killing Gabe and—_everything? _

Percy holds onto Annabeth’s promise of _next year _with all his heart, because if it happens, then he’s not crazy. He’ll know for sure that it all really happened, that it wasn’t simply a figment of his imagination.

_Next time, _he thinks, and holds onto it like a lifeline.

•

School gets out in May, and the Underwoods take the boys to a beach house for the summer in Hilton Head, South Carolina. Percy loves it; he loves the ocean, and sand, and waking up every morning to Mrs. Underwood humming in the tiny kitchen as she fries bacon for breakfast.

He and Grover are usually attached at the hip, but mid-June Grover gets a cold and Mrs. Underwood frets over him, making the scrawny redhead stay inside until he’s recovered. Percy goes to the beach by himself, skipping over the boardwalk with his towel in hand.

When he reaches the sand, he wiggles his toes and grins; the sun warms his back, and he remembers to spray on some sunscreen before getting into the water. Not that he’s worried about burning—he tans easily, to Grover’s annoyance. His red-haired friend burns like a lobster, while Percy’s so bronzed that the whites of his eyes and teeth stand out strikingly on his face.

After playing the water for a while, Percy just closes his eyes and sits on the sand, soaking up the sun. It’s moments like these when he wishes he still had his dad, that neither of his parents were dead. He loves the Underwoods, but. He misses his mom. He wants to have a family—a real one.

Percy lets his thoughts stray back to his first birthday. The memories are a little fuzzy; it was almost four years ago that he went back in time for the first time, but he can still remember highlights of his visit—his dad, lifting him up in the air and laughing, his mom, sitting on the beach, reading, smiling at them.

Percy sighs and gets up, trudging over the burning sand with his boogie-board and towel in hand. Sometimes, he really does think it was just a dream, just something he made up.

He’ll just have to wait for his birthday, he guesses. Until then, Percy can just dream, and wait.

•

Percy’s tenth birthday comes in with sunny skies and Grover’s morning breath in his face.

“Happy birthday!” Grover chirps. Percy groans and rolls over, covering his face with his pillow. “Percymyyy, wake up,” his best friend whines, shaking the pillow.

“Go away,” Percy moans. “Your breath smells like something died in there.”

Grover blinks. “I just brushed my teeth!” he protests.

Percy grins as he sits up groggily. “It’s my birthday.”

Grover rolls his eyes. “I just _said _that.”

Percy ignores him, leaping out of bed. “It’s my birthday!” he yells, running through the cabin in his pajamas. Mr. and Mrs. Underwood, sipping coffee in the kitchen, look up with soft smiles.

“Percy, dear,” Mrs. Underwood says. “How did you sleep?”

“I slept great,” Percy answers, beaming. “Can Grover and I go down to the boardwalk?”

His foster parents glance at each other. “I don’t see why not,” Mr. Underwood says, shrugging as he takes a sip of coffee.

“Make sure to put on sunscreen, dears!” Mrs. Underwood calls as Percy dashes back to the room he shares with Grover.

“Come on, we’re going down to the boardwalk!” he tells Grover as he strips out of his pajamas and pulls on a pair of cargo shorts and a t-shirt.

“Okay,” Grover answers agreeably, pulling on his own clothes. “Why? We just went a couple days ago.”

Percy shrugs, hopping on one foot as he tries to tie his shoes without sitting down. “I just want to,” he says lamely. Grover raises his eyebrows as he begins brushing his teeth, but he doesn’t comment.

Within a few minutes, the boys are outside into the already-scorching sun, the fresh, salty breeze blowing up from the ocean only slightly pushing back the morning heat. They weave through venders and wares and stands full of shirts and necklaces and other knick-knacks, until they finally reach the store Percy wants. He ducks inside, motioning for Grover to follow him.

It’s a dimly-lit convenience store, quiet and cool compared to the hordes of tourists and crowded streets outside. Percy looks around a bit before finding what he wants: a cigarette lighter and a pack of cheap, bright blue birthday candles.

•

That afternoon, Grover decides to take a nap, and Mr. and Mrs. Underwood leave for the local grocery store to pick up some things for Percy’s party later that night. Percy doesn’t mind to be left alone; on the contrary, it gives him time to take his pack of candles and go down to the beach.

It’s surprisingly quiet for such a hot day. Only a few beachgoers are enjoying the sand and surf, and Percy picks a relatively empty section before sitting down on his towel and carefully taking out the candles.

One by one, he sticks them in the sand, until there are nine blue candles, looking scraggly and out-of-place by the seashells and foam. Percy grabs the cigarette lighter and carefully lights the candles, shielding them from the light, salty breeze with his hands. They’re shaking; this is the moment of truth.

He closes his eyes, blows them out, and everything goes black.

The relief that floods him is overwhelming, and even though he feels like he’s falling a million miles an hour, he nearly sags. Suddenly, he’s yanked forcibly out of his fall.

Percy coughs as he falls to his knees on what feels like solid ground, trying to catch his breath. When he raises his eyes, Annabeth is standing in front of him, looking annoyed.

She raises an eyebrow as he gets to his feet. “Took you long enough,” she sniffs, but there’s a grin on the corner of her lips that Percy doesn’t miss.

He takes a second to drink in her presence; she still looks about his age, and her hair is a little longer and she’s wearing jeans and a dark blue t-shirt, but other than that she’s the Same as she was a year before and Percy laughs out loud, because he _wasn’t _crazy. He didn’t dream up an imaginary girl or traveling in time.

Percy leaps forwards suddenly and hugs her. Annabeth freezes, stuttering, “Oh. Okay. Um…” but eventually she leans into the hug and holds him tightly.

She smells like vanilla. Percy doesn’t ever want to move, but Annabeth coughs, patting him on the back, and he pulls back with a grin.

“I missed you,” he says, and Annabeth’s harsh silver gaze softens.

“I know.”

Percy raises his eyebrows—it’s a habit he thinks he picked up on from her, and he does it all the time now. “How did you know?” he asks.

She ducks her head, smiling. Percy thinks she’s the prettiest girl he’s ever seen; not that he actually _knows_ that many girls, but whatever. “You wouldn’t have hugged me if you hadn’t,” she replies reasonably. “How is your life?”

Percy considers, remembering the last time he saw her; his mom had just died, and she was the one who had stopped him from bringing her back. At the time, it had felt like he was dying, but now—

“I miss her,” he admits, honest and raw, “but I have a great foster family, and I heard them talking about adopting me, so. Also, we have a dog, and his name is Blackjack, and he’s _awesome_.”

She nods, like she was expecting this. “I’m glad, Percy.”

Percy grins, unable to hold out any longer. “So, can you tell me all about time travel now? And being a Time Guardian? Do you get a cool suit like—a superhero? Or…”

Annabeth huffs out a laugh. “First, _no. _I do not have a _cool suit, _as you so eloquently put it.”

“Aw,” Percy sighs, disappointed.

“But,” she continues, “I suppose the best way to answer your questions is to show you, so.” She holds out her hand. “Come on.”

Percy touches her fingers, and it feels like a beginning.

•

They end up in back in New York City, in the good part of town that Percy and his mom rarely went to when they lived there. The city is sweltering in the mid-August temperature, heat waves rising from the pavement in blurry swirls.

Percy blinks as Annabeth lets go of his hand. “Why are we here?” he asks.

Her eyes are still closed, and she smiles into the sun, up at the sky, for a minute, before lowering her chin and opening her eyes. “Ah, I love the city,” she says. “There’s something about it—a blend of ethnicities and cultures that mix together into one community.”

Percy doesn’t know what about half of the words she used actually mean_, _so he takes the logical option and ignores her. “Annabeth, why are we here?” he asks again.

She huffs, turning to him. “To show you something, idiot.” The time guardian begins walking down the sidewalk. Percy follows, feeling rather like a lost puppy. He jumps when a person just _walks right through him; _Annabeth laughs at him. “You know we’re not actually here, right?”

“Yeah, but it’s still weird,” Percy grumbles, glancing behind him.

Suddenly, Annabeth stops, and Percy plows into her. “Watch it,” she scowls, before pointing at a lady sitting on a bench, oblivious to the crowds of people passing on the crowded sidewalk in front of her.

Percy squints. “What’s so special about her?” he asks. The lady looks like she’s maybe twenty-something, absorbed in a book. She has smooth dark skin and curly hair, and she’s wearing a tank top and shorts.

She looks perfectly average, and Percy’s rather confused about why they came all this way just to see a random stranger until Annabeth turns back to look at him. “She’s a Time Traveler, too,” she tells him.

Percy scrunches his eyebrows. “Really?”

“Yes,” Annabeth replies, “but she hasn’t yet traveled in time. She has no idea of her talents, of the possibilities that could await her.”

“But why?” Percy presses. “Has she never blown out the wrong number of candles on a cake, or what?”

“No,” Annabeth answers. “See, there aren’t a _lot _of time travelers—or people who could possibly travel in time—born per generation, but it isn’t exactly rare, either. But the reason that so few people actually _do _travel is that—well, not everyone gets there the Same way.”

“What do you mean?” Percy asks, scuffing his shoe on the ground as he gazes at the young woman.

Annabeth sighs, gesturing wildly. “See, look at it this way—if someone wants to fly on a plane to get somewhere, they have to have a ticket, right? Not just anyone in the airport, or the parking lot, or the town, can ride on the plane.”

Percy nods. “Yeah?”

“Well, the people with tickets are the Time Travelers, who are born with the ability to eventually travel in time, but only in very specific circumstances. You, for instance, can only travel on your birthday, after blowing out the wrong amount of candles. Normally, you would simply travel to whatever number of candles were on your cake—like how when you were six, you traveled to your first birthday, and when you were nine, you traveled to your seventh birthday. By blowing out nine candles on your tenth birthday, you started to go back to your ninth birthday, but I grabbed you out of the time vortex before you could.”

Percy nods impatiently. “Okay—but what does this have to do with the lady and riding planes?”

Annabeth sighs. “I’m _getting _to that. Chill. To get on flights to different places, though, you have to go through different gates, right? It’s not the Same for every person or every flight.”

He bobs his head.

“Well, the different gates are like—the different conditions or circumstances a traveler can journey in time. That lady on the bench can only travel on Christmas Day, after walking exactly 2,348 steps by 11:36 in the morning.”

Percy blinks. “But how would she ever do that?” he asks.

Annabeth nods, smiling. “See, now you’re getting it. The chances of her actually reaching that goal, that circumstance, is beyond rare, it’s—it’s an infinitely tiny chance. Of course, a Time Guardian could tell her what to do, but we usually don’t interfere with potential travelers’ lives. If they reach the goal—as you did—then sometimes we guide or direct them, but if not—”

“But if not, then they just live regular lives, like normal people,” Percy supplies. “I think I understand.” He furrows his brow. “But why is it that when I went back in time to my first birthday, it was like I was—I was inside my body as a baby? But when we went back last year, it was like I was looking at myself.”

She nods, looking pleased at his questions. “When you blow out the birthday candles and go back in time, that’s _you,_ traveling back to that number you blew out, and therefore, no matter what age you travel to, you’d stay inside your head.”

He bites his lip. “Um… I don’t really get it?”

Annabeth sighs. “However_, _when I take you anywhere in time, as a Time Guardian, I have the power to show you what it’s like from an outside vantage point, whether your past or future self is there or not.”

“Wow, that’s not confusing at all,” Percy snarks.

She huffs out a laugh; Percy loves when she laughs. “I know. It’s confusing for _me, _and I’ve been a guardian for 211 years.”

Percy blinks, time travel forgotten. “I thought you said you were 219 years old last year?”

Annabeth nods, looking away. “I was nine years old when I became a guardian.”

Percy furrows his brow. “How—”

She smiles tightly. “Not now, Percy. Maybe I’ll tell you eventually, but—not now.” She checks the silver watch on her wrist, the Same one she was wearing the year before. It doesn’t look like a regular watch; it has a bunch of circles and numbers on it in seemingly meaningless patterns, but Percy decides not to question it, given Annabeth’s current mood. “Are you ready to go?” she asks.

“Go where?” Percy asks. He hopes he doesn’t have to go back to the beach already, because he’s been waiting for this for a _year_, and he doesn’t want it to end.

Annabeth rolls her eyes and holds out her hand. “Back to the Time Vortex, silly, because it’s hot out here. I want to hear all about school this past year, and your summer, and your foster family, and—did you mention a dog earlier?”

Percy grins and takes her hand.

(If it’s a beginning, then it’s a pretty good one.)

•

Percy’s life continues on pretty normally after his birthday; he and Grover get home from the beach and start their first day of middle school less than a week later.

It’s alright; at first, it’s mostly him and Grover eating in the corner by themselves a lot, but as the year goes on they begin to make a few friends. Jason Grace, a popular kid who plays on the soccer team, decides to take them under his wing for some reason, and within a few months the three of them are inseparable.

Grover develops his first crush, and Percy teases him incessantly about it. Her name is Juniper, and she has long hair and big green eyes, and she always wears loose, flowy sundresses even in the winter.

Jason would tease him about it, but he’s too busy blushing every time Reyna Ramirez walks by. She’s the president of the sports club and is in the seventh grade, so all the sixth graders (and many of the seventh and eighth graders, too) look up in awe as she passes.

Percy doesn’t really have a crush on anyone, though Jason told him there was a girl in their English class who was checking him out. Percy doesn’t care, honestly; if anyone would ask him if he had a crush, a picture of steel-grey eyes would flash in his mind. But he thinks that Annabeth probably wouldn’t appreciate that, so he just keeps his head down when girls talk to him or giggle behind their hands as they pass him in the hallways.

In December, Grover’s parents sit down with him and Grover and tell the boys that they’ve been considering adopting Percy. Percy actually starts crying; it’s just completely overwhelming that only a little over a year after his mom died, he has a new family.

They’re never going to _replace _his mom, but. He loves the Underwoods, and they love him. And it’s enough.

He officially becomes an Underwood (though his new parents agree to let him hyphenate his last name; he’s Percyuel Jackson-Underwood), in April, and time seems to fly. He, Grover, and Jason go to summer camp for a few weeks together, and he and Grover go to the beach.

On his 11th birthday, Annabeth asks him, once they’re in the Time Vortex, where he would like to go. Percy considers before asking, wide-eyed, “Can we go to _China_?” and Annabeth laughs and holds out her hand.

After they’ve visited Beijing and Annabeth’s showed him everything he could ever want to know, they go back to the Time Vortex and talk for what seems like years (and maybe it is; there’s no time passing in the Vortex, so they could be together for years or seconds). When Annabeth finally sends him back, she says “Next year?” like question, and Percy beams before taking her hand.

(It’s become their promise.)

It’s a pretty good birthday, all-in-all. Not every eleven-year-old gets the chance to visit Beijing, even if they’re not _technically_ there. Needless to say, Percy aces the quiz in Geography about Chinese culture.

The next year of school passes relatively uneventfully; Grover and Jason continue to pine over their respective crushes, and the girls continue to be oblivious to their existence. Percy joins the swimming team, and Jason’s soccer team makes it to the State middle-school finals.

His twelfth birthday he and Annabeth go to Athens, Greece, because Annabeth loves it, and Percy loves to see her smile. Afterwards they, as always, talk for what could be years, and Percy replies to her raised eyebrows with a statement. “Next year.”

It’s a bit strange, he supposes—he only sees her once a year, but they have unlimited time in the Time Vortex, and Percy feels like she’s one of his best friends. She knows everything about him, things he would never dream of telling Jason, or even Grover, and every year she lets a bit more of her own past out.

On his thirteenth birthday, they don’t go anywhere, just staying in the Time Vortex and talking about anything under the sun. Percy finally gets the courage to ask Annabeth about her watch, and she ducks her head with a little grin.

“My friend Luke gave it to me,” she says, and the little smile on her face is the first one Percy ever remembers not liking.

“Do you see Luke often?” he asks, fidgeting with his shirt.

The smile on her face changes into something sad, tired. “No, I haven’t seen him since—well, almost since I became a Time Guardian.”

Percy hates himself for that feeling of happiness that overtakes the envy, but he would be lying if he said he wasn’t a _little _relieved.

On his fourteenth birthday, he tells Annabeth all about his fears about high school. “I’m not going to fit in, and I have Grover and Jason, but what if they’re in different classes? And I love swimming, but I’m sure it’s going to be way harder, and—”

“Hey,” says Annabeth softly, and Percy stops rambling. “It’s going to be fine, I promise.”

“But—” Percy hesitates. “I still have trouble reading,” he admits. “And I’m going to be in _ninth grade, _Annabeth! No one in ninth grade has trouble reading anymore.”

“It’s because you’re dyslexic, Percy,” she tells him matter-of-factly.

“What’s dyslexic?” he asks, scrunching his eyebrows.

“Let me guess—when you’re reading, it’s like the words fly off the page, or rearrange themselves, right?” He nods, dumbfounded that someone actually understands, and she smiles. “I was dyslexic too, before I became a Guardian. Of course, back then no one even knew what that was, but now—there are people who can help you, Percy. You just have to ask.”

He nods, swallowing. “Okay. I will.”

She smiles. “Tell me how it goes next year, huh?” He watches as she stands up, and he knows the end of their visit is approaching.

Percy lets the corners of his mouth quirk up. “Okay, I will.”

She holds out her hand, and Percy is about to take it when she stops. “Oh! I forgot,” she says, digging in her pockets.

His brow furrows. “Forgot what?”

Annabeth grins, pulling something out of the back pocket of her jeans. “Here. Happy birthday, Percy.”

He takes the object and feels inexplicably like he might cry. It’s a watch, just like hers, only while the strap on hers is grey, his is a bright, aqua blue. The inside is a bunch of random circles and numbers, and Percy has no idea how to read it, but. It’s amazing.

He tries to talk a bit, but all that comes out is a strangled croak. Annabeth seems to understand, and there’s pink in her cheeks when she ducks her head and holds out her hand.

“See you next year, Percy,” she says, and Percy touches her fingers.

_Next year._

•

Birthday number fifteen passes smoothly; high school _is_ pretty different than middle school—Percy finds that out the hard way—but it’s an okay different. Jason, of course, is still popular; he joins the soccer team immediately, and within a year becomes the first freshman captain the school has had in a decade.

Grover isn’t _popular_, per say, but he joins the Environmentalist club and the drama club, and costars in the school play with Juniper. So, he’s relatively well known.

Percy, on the other hand, stays in the shadows. He’s on the swim team, but doesn’t particularly shine; he sits with Grover or Jason in the classes they share and at lunch, and keeps to himself if his best friends aren’t around.

It’s just—_okay. _Not particularly good or bad, just. Mediocre.

(That’s a word Annabeth used on his fifteenth birthday; when he got back, he looked it up and uses it now whenever he gets a chance.)

The spring that Percy’s fifteen, Jason convinces Grover—and thus Percy—to come to an after-prom party with him. Jason and Percy had both gotten asked to prom by a few girls, but they had ended up going as a group with Grover, and it had been pretty fun.

Besides, Grover says pleadingly, _Juniper _will be there, so he has to go.

Percy shakes his head and sighs, but goes upstairs to get changed.

Grover is actually friends with Juniper now; she’s remained effervescent and sweet, and Grover has just a big a crush on her as ever. Percy _really _just wants to collapse in his room and watch a movie, but Grover really wants to go, and Percy can’t just leave him and Jason by themselves—they’d probably eat some weed brownies by mistake and get high and no one would be there to take them home. He basically the mom of the trio; he _has _to go.

He does, however, insist that he and Grover ask their parents; the Underwoods are fine with it, as long as they come home before midnight or spend the night with Jason.

It’s kind of annoying, really; Percy had wanted them to say no, and then he’d have an excuse to stay home. No such luck, apparently.

He reluctantly pulls on a green t-shirt and a pair of semi-clean jeans he found on the floor of his and Grover’s room before he grabs his watch, the one Annabeth gave him for his 14th birthday; even after being dunked in the swimming pool more times than he could count, it doesn’t look a day older than when she gave it to him. Not a single scratch or dent mares the smooth glass, under which the random circles keep revolving and the needles keep turning.

Percy wears it basically every day; every time he looks at it, it reminds him of Annabeth’s shy smile when she gave it to him.

He checks himself out in the mirror when he’s finished getting dressed; he looks pretty good, he decides as he ties his Converse, but all he can think is that he wishes Annabeth was there.

(He may or may not have developed a bit of a crush on an immortal Time Guardian. So what.)

“Percy, you coming?” Grover yells, sticking his head into their room. His wild red curls are mildly tamed with gel, and Percy thinks he looks a little like a strawberry, with his flushed skin and freckles. He doesn’t say so, though, because he’s polite.

“Yeah, I’ll be right there,” Percy replies, grabbing a grey sports jacket and heading out the door. Grover huffs, hopping on one foot as he ties his shoe, and together they head out to the driveway, where Jason is waiting in a sleek silver car.

“Hey Jason,” Percy greets his friend, then nervously bobs his head at Jason’s older sister, Thalia. As a popular senior, Thalia is _cool, _with her leather jackets and the blue streaks in her short, dark hair. She has a sleek red Corvette, a gift from her dad, and Jason gets to ride in it all the time. Percy would think it quite unfair, except he and Grover are with Jason like 99% of the time, so. It’s okay.

Even though he spends long hours in the Corvette, he’s still a bit nervous when he says hello to Thalia, because she’s—okay, she’s more than a _little_ bit frightening. She pops her gum and winks at them.

Grover blushes. Percy gulps.

Thalia blasts 90’s rock-and-roll as they drive; Jason climbs into the back seat with him and Grover and makes Thalia roll back the top. They scream out the lyrics and Percy’s heart beats faster with feeling of the wind on his face and ruffling his previously neatly-combed hair; it’s exhilarating, the nearly-summer air and city lights and Thalia grinning ferociously as she drives.

Percy kind of wishes the drive would never end.

They arrive at the party fashionably late, according to Thalia. The three boys hop out of the back, and Thalia leans forward as they begin walking up the drive to the big house.

“Don’t get stoned or wasted, or the Underwoods will kill me,” she begins.

Percy kind of doubts it; he’s seen Mrs. Underwood literally catch a fly with her hands and bring it outside to avoid killing it, so.

“Most important, have fun, and don’t do anything I wouldn’t!” Thalia winks, wiggling her eyebrows.

Percy and Grover blush; Jason groans and grabs their collars, dragging them towards the house. “Thanks, Thalia. We’re leaving now.”

Thalia laughs wolfishly, honks the horn twice, and drives away, speeding down the street and out of sight.

The three walk up the long driveway of their classmates house; Percy knows the girl hosting it only invited Jason because she has a crush on him. Jason, however, has been positively _glowing _lately, talking incessantly about Reyna this and Reyna that, so Percy kind of doubts Isabelle has a chance.

Grover wrings his hands as they walk. “Guys, does my breath smell good? Oh crap. I think I forgot deodorant. Percy, smell my breath—”

“Ugh, dude,” Percy groans. “No. Stop freaking out. It’s going to be fine.”

“You do realize that Juniper is your high-school crush and you’re probably going to barely remember her in five years, right?” Jason asks wryly.

Grover looks betrayed. “Of course I’m going to remember her, because she’s going to be my _girlfriend. _Hopefully.”

Percy chokes; Jason thumps him on the back helpfully.

Grover sends them an annoyed look. “Keep laughing when I have a girlfriend and neither of you do,” he mutters grumpily.

Jason nods seriously. “I’ll try, J-man.”

Grover’s about to retort, but they’ve reached the front door. It’s massive; the whole house is basically a mansion. Percy’s a little awed, looking at the architecture; Annabeth loves architecture.

It’s irrelevant. He opens the door.

Immediately the three are hit with pounding music and flashing lights and Percy sighs; it’s going to be a long night. The things he does for his friends, _honestly_.

It doesn’t take long for Jason and Grover to disappear; Percy catches sight of Reyna in the kitchen, and Juniper chatting in the living room, so he kind of knows where they’re going to be. He grabs of cup of soda offered to him by a giggling junior, grimacing as he makes his way through the sweaty crowd, pulsing with the music.

Hopefully there will be a free couch in a corner where he can sit and play on his phone until Grover and Jason are ready to leave.

Unfortunately, his plans are interrupted before he can even make it to the couch. Carrie Dare, a pretty redhead, comes up to him with a cup in one hand and a smirk on her pink lips. Her bright green eyes are tinged with dark eyeshadow and glitter at him when she smiles.

Percy knows her; she’s in his art class, and is _amazing _with watercolors, and she seemed really nice in the once or twice he’s talked to her.

“I think there’s a room free downstairs,” Carrie says, stepping closer. She leans into his personal space, the smell of her perfume wafting into his face, and Percy gulps. She’s wearing a tight tank top and shorts, and her red curls are held back with a headband, and—Carrie’s _pretty, _and nice, and funny, and talented, but—

He glances down, and sees his watch, and suddenly all he can see is Annabeth with her dark curls and piercing grey eyes, the smell of vanilla wafting from her hair and her oversized t-shirts and jeans, and just. He _can’t do this_.

“I’m sorry—gotta go—bathroom—” he stutters, his soda sloshing as he steps back and plunges back into the crowd of people dancing, ducking around couples making out.

He heads upstairs, trying to find Grover and Jason; a girl passes him on the stairs and winks at him. Percy blushes as he takes the steps two at a time.

“Jason?” he calls, glancing around before catching sight of Jason and Reyna kissing against a wall. He covers his eyes with his hands and backs down the stairs, tripping over his own feet more than once.

Okay, so Jason wouldn’t be ready to leave for a while, but at least Percy knows where to find him now. He squares his shoulders and sighs. Now to find Grover.

_At least there’s no chance of me walking in on Grover with anyone, _he thinks, just as he turns the corner and sees Grover and Juniper sitting on the loveseat, talking intently, which. Not _quite _as bad as walking in on them making out, but still.

He manages not to embarrass himself and slips away before the couple sees him, heading back to the couch.

(They probably wouldn’t be leaving for a while.)

•

The party sticks in Percy’s mind for two very important reasons.

The first one is that both Grover and Juniper, and Jason and Reyna, start dating, which leaves Percy as the awkward third wheel basically all the time now. He’s happy for his friends, but it’s kind of strange, how the dynamic of their trio friendship has shifted. Originally it was Grover and Percy against the world, and eventually Jason came into the mix, but now both of his best friends are in relationships, and Percy’s—well, _not._

It’s not like he hasn’t had offers or anything, which brings him to the second reason that night at the party stuck out in his mind. It was the first time a girl had ever _really _hit on him, but after that, it seems like he’s a sudden magnet for girls. Girls giggling in the hall as they ask him out, girls winking at him coyly as they pass, girls who stare at him in class.

Percy’s not _used _to it, and it freaks him out a little. He stammers and blushes whenever he’s in the vicinity of a pretty female, basically making himself look like a complete and utter dork_._

Honestly, he doesn’t really mind. The only women in his life that he’s able to talk to without looking like a tomato were his mom, Mrs. Underwood, and Annabeth.

And it’s not like his and Annabeth’s relationship is anything near to _normal. _

On his sixteenth birthday, Annabeth takes him to Paris in 1888, when the Eiffel Tower is being built. He watches her fondly as she explains, her eyes gleaming happily, the architecture and math of it all; he doesn’t understand most of what she’s talking about, but it’s okay. It makes her happy, and Percy honestly can’t think of anything he likes more.

Later, when they’re back in the Time Vortex talking, Percy tells Annabeth about the party and Carrie; he’s just expecting to get a laugh out of it, but Annabeth cocks her head.

It’s kind of strange, how she ages along with him; every year he sees her, it’s like she’s just a human who’s a year older. Her hair grows and changes, her face obtains a few more scattered freckles; she’s had a few growth spurts since he first met her, and there’s a scar on her cheek that hadn’t been there last year.

He sometimes thinks about what it would be like if she _was _a normal human, if they had met when they were nine and been able to grow up together normally, maybe as neighbors, or best friends. He kind of wonders if they would have become as close as they are now, even only seeing each other once a year. If they would have become good friends, and talked for hours upon hours about the tiniest things, or fallen asleep together after being out in the hot summer sun.

He wonders if he would have had the opportunity to kiss her, or to count every single little freckle smattered on her cheeks. He wonders if they could have had a future together.

Percy supposes he’ll never find out.

He turns his attention back to the present; today, Annabeth’s wearing a pair of light denim shorts and a sleeveless blouse, and her hair is down to her waist in big, bouncy curls.

Percy’s trying very hard not to die. So far he’s doing pretty well, he thinks.

But when she tilts her head, her grey eyes studying him and her tongue dampening her lips, he can’t help but gulp.

“Percy, have you ever kissed anyone?”

He chokes. “I’m—I’m _sorry_?”

“Have you ever kissed anyone?” she repeats, like it’s a perfectly _normal _question that anyone would ask.

Percy stutters for a bit before admitting, “Um. No.”

He thinks he sees a flicker of relief in her eyes as she scoots closer to him, but he might be imagining it. “Why?” she asks, pushing her knees against her chest and wrapping her arms around them.

He shrugs, trying not to feel self-conscious. It’s not really working. “I just, um. Haven’t?”

She laughs, and her breath smells like the Wrigley’s watermelon gum that he used to chew when he was younger. “Is that a question or a statement?”

Percy huffs out a laugh. “A statement, Annabeth, come _on—_”

She twists her hands in her lap, and there’s a hint of—what, nervousness? Hesitation?—in her tone that hadn’t been there a minute ago. “Could… could I kiss you?”

He kind of jumps. Just a little bit. “_What_?”

Annabeth meets his eyes, grey-on-green, and he thinks his heart might stop. “Can I kiss you?”

And of course he bobs his head, like the biggest dork, and she laughs at him. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

And then she’s really, _really _close to him, and then—

And then she’s kissing him, and he isn’t prepared so it’s a little sloppy, but it’s perfect and she tastes like sweet watermelon and he can’t breathe, because _Annabeth is kissing him._

“Happy birthday, Percy,” she says softly as she pulls away.

He’s pretty sure he says something extremely intelligent, like _uh. _She just giggles and kisses him again.

They spend hours just kissing and talking in between. Percy tries to kiss every single freckle on her nose, and she laughs at him, and he thinks it might be the happiest he’s ever been

Of course, it can’t last forever. Even if time has no meaning in the vortex, Percy knows subconsciously that Annabeth has a limit on how long she can spend with him; he doesn’t know what it is, doesn’t know much about the Time Guardians or what they do or how they work, but. He knows that he can’t stay forever, as much as he would like to.

She kisses him one last time, and Percy never wants to let her go. One day in the future, maybe his seventeenth birthday, maybe his eighteenth, maybe a decade from now, they’re going to have to talk about what kissing means for them, for their relationship. Percy doesn’t really want to, not right now; he just wants to hold onto this moment for as long as possible.

Annabeth pulls away and closes her eyes, letting her forehead touch Percy’s. “Next year?” she breathes.

Percy closes his eyes too, simply basking in the nearness of her. “Next year,” he whispers.

She holds out her hand, and Percy wants desperately to hold her for a little longer, to have their happy ending, but he knows he has to go.

He takes her hand, and knows he’s falling faster than he ever has before.

•

Percy’s last two years of high school are relatively uneventful. Jason and Reyna break up in the beginning of Jason’s junior year and her senior; Jason _claimed _it was amicable and that they were going to stay friends, but that was right before he made Percy and Grover watch _The Notebook _with him and sobbed throughout the entire thing, so. Percy kind of doubts that the parting was hugely friendly.

Grover and Juniper, on the other hand, continue to be the world’s happiest couple, going to _Save the Dolphins! _protests and checking out different gardening clubs around town together. Percy’s pretty sure they’re going to get married eventually; they act like an old married couple like all of the time anyway, so it would even be that much of a difference.

Percy continues—well, _not_ dating; whatever small crush he had on Annabeth multiplied ten-fold after she kissed him on his sixteenth birthday. On his seventeenth, she explains that Time Guardians _technically _aren’t supposed to get romantically involved with travelers, but she says it happens all the time. Percy believes her, if only so he doesn’t have to think about the future.

His senior year flies by, and soon they’re onto graduation. He and Grover and Jason drive through town in the wee hours of the morning in Jason’s new car (a graduation present from Jason’s millionaire dad) and just celebrate having graduated high school. It’s pretty great; they blast their favorite songs and roll back the top of the Mustang to feel the wind in their faces, drinking in the freedom and the wind and the music pounding in their ears, and Percy thinks he could get drunk off exhilaration.

All three of them applied and got into NYU; Percy and Jason for their athletic feats, and Grover for the theatre program. That fall, Jason’s dad pulls some strings and is able to get the three of them a dorm room together.

College life is _crazy_ busy and filled to the brim with people and parties and assignments and classes, and Percy’s completely overwhelmed, but he _loves _it. He and Grover go home on weekends sometimes to spend some time with their parents; the Underwoods love to hear their stories about their classes and friends, and Grover and Percy are more than happy to entertain them.

It’s also pretty cool, living in the dorms; most of his days are filled with endless pillow fights and suspiciously frequent microwave accidents.

The first time Percy comes back to the dorms after a day of classes, he thinks the burnt popcorn smell in his room is a one-time thing, but. The next day Grover burns the vegan muffins he was attempting to make in their tiny microwave, and the day after that Percy comes in to find Jason trying to make a grilled cheese sandwich using tinfoil and their coffeemaker.

Needless to say, it doesn’t go so well. Their RA has a stern talk with the three of them about “appropriate food management,” and leaves it at that.

Percy’s kind of tired of smelling like burnt food. Also, none of the accidents so far have been _his _fault, so he levels a glare at his best friends as they leave the RA’s office, frenziedly promising to do better. They both have the decency to look guilty, but two days later Percy comes back to find them both frantically cleaning up a can of soup that Grover had tried to put in a mug and microwave. Apparently the mug wasn’t _supposed _to be microwaved, and it had been so hot that Grover had grabbed it and immediately dropped it onto the carpeted floor. The mug promptly shattered, spilling soup all over the floor and the various items of clothing on the carpet.

Percy shakes his head and gingerly picks up a shirt spattered with tomato soup. “We should probably do some laundry,” he says, raising an eyebrow.

Jason groans as he flops onto his bed, wrappers from long-forgotten candy bars crinkling underneath him. “But I don’t _want _to,” he whines.

“Too bad,” Percy says firmly, dumping a pile of dirty clothes on Jason’s head and getting tomato soup in his hair.

Honestly, he’s _so _the mom friend.

•

For dinner one night in November, they meet Juniper at Olive Garden. She’s also going to NYU, and she and Grover are still dating. Grover’s admitted to Percy and Jason that he thinks she’s it for him; Percy’s happy for his brother/best friend, but. A spark of envy arises when he thinks of the life Grover and Juniper will be able to have: eventually getting married, maybe having kids, buying a house, getting a dog. Being able to grow old together.

It’s just not _fair. _

Jason whines about it for different reasons, most of them being _why don’t I have a girlfriend I want to be grossly domestic too—_but Percy tends to tune Jason out when he’s whining. Honestly, his friends are wimps.

At Olive Garden while they’re eating their meal and Juniper’s catching them up on all the latest gossip, they somehow get onto the subject of dating. Percy squirms a bit, but thankfully Jason takes the stage here, talking about a girl named Piper who’s Juniper’s roommate and best friend, and she’s also in one of his classes. Apparently she smells like cinnamon and has choppy brown hair and _the prettiest eyes you’ll ever see, honestly guys, I’m not kidding, _and Juniper laughs and promises to officially introduce him_—_but Percy doubts Jason’s puppy-crush will lead anywhere. At any rate, it’ll be fun to watch Jason pine and moan about unrequited love for the next couple weeks.

Percy’s so invested in Jason’s dramatic stories that he’s completely unprepared when Juniper asks, “Percy, why don’t you date?”

He says something really intelligent, like “Uh. Because?” and tries to leave it at that, but then Grover tries to kick him under the table. The problem is that he misses, only grazing Percy’s leg, but his foot apparently swings up higher than he meant to because he hits Jason full-on in between his legs.

Percy snorts, Grover chokes, and Jason squeals; Juniper, who’s oblivious to the casualties of war, smiles sweetly. Percy subtly looks under the table to see that Jason’s hands are cradling the front of his pants, his face tomato red while Grover looks only slightly remorseful.

“So?” Juniper prompts, and all three boys snap their chins up to look at her guiltily. “All through high school—or even longer than that, I guess, as long as I’ve known you—you’ve never dated anyone or expressed any interest.”

“Um,” Percy begins, biting his lip. He can see Grover, next to Juniper, with the look on his face like he’s deciding whether or not to try to kick him again. Jason’s strangled squeaks probably cause him to hesitate. “I just. Don’t. I’ve never—I’m not great with girls, and the people who’ve asked me out I’m never really interested in, so.”

Juniper nods. “I can try to set you up with a friend of mine?” she offers.

“No!” Percy bursts out, before seeing Grover’s and Jason’s confused glances and quickly stammering, “I mean. No. It’s fine. I’m fine. Classes are fine. I mean, classes are _busy, _and I don’t have time to date, and—”

Juniper looks relatively satisfied as she leans back. “Okay then,” she answers, and seamlessly changes the subject.

Percy’s pretty sure that will be the end of it, but he’s also pretty much always wrong, so.

•

He was _definitely_ wrong.

It gets even worsewhen Jason actually starts does dating his crush, Piper. She’s funny and sarcastic and gorgeous, and she fits right into their little friend group with her hilarious stories and quick wit.

She and Percy become extremely good friends very fast; he complains to her how Jason talks about her _constantly_, and she replies with every emoji known to mankind, and sometimes they text each other random memes until 2am. Usually they’re both a little drunk on exhaustion at that point, and they’ll FaceTime and have a competition of watching try-not-to-laugh Vine compilations on Youtube. Whoever laughs first forfeits the competition, and Percy _always _loses, and Piper always laughs at him more than the Vines.

It’s great. Jason’s head-over-heels, and by the end of the year Piper’s one of Percy’s best friends, and the days when all five of them go out for dinner or a movie are honestly the best, except. Percy’s teased even _more_ about not dating; even slight acquaintances who somehow know one of the others will randomly bring up the subject during a conversation, and he’s hard-pressed to avoid it.

Honestly, can’t a guy be single in peace?

His freshman year of college, though, seems to pass in a flash, apart from the dating issues; the three boys go home for the summer, and Percy and Jason get jobs as lifeguards at the local pool they used to swim in as kids. Grover works as a counselor at a summer day camp for middle-schoolers, and often he’ll join them at the pool in the evenings after a long day out in the sun.

They’ll swim laps and dive for rings, and it feels like the three of them are preteens again. It’s great, honestly; one of Percy’s best summers to date.

The highlight of the summer, though, is his annual meeting with Annabeth on his birthday. She takes him to Hawaii a couple hundred years into the future, and they talk in the warm sand while flying cars whiz above them. It’s pretty great, and Percy wishes it would never end.

But it does, and he goes back to reality with the hole in his heart opened just a little bit wider.

•

His sophomore year passes quickly, too; Jason and Piper are actually pretty serious about each other, and Grover and Juniper are cheerful as always. Percy’s happy for both his friends, in serious, long-term relationships with the girls of their dreams and a bright future ahead of them. Really, he is.

The green weed of envy in his heart only grows a little bit, every time he watches Grover reach for Juniper’s hand and squeeze it during a movie, or when Piper meets them for breakfast and kisses Jason in greeting.

Really, it’s fine. He’s fine. Everything’s fine.

And then, the spring of their sophomore year, Grover decides to propose to Juniper.

Percy and Jason, being the great best friends that they are, offer to help; they both drive home with him so he can get Juniper’s father’s blessing. Percy doesn’t know why he would even be nervous about this part, since Mr. and Mrs. Green have known Grover since he first started dating Juniper in high school. Mr. Green literally calls him _son. _But Grover tends to freak out about everything, and Percy and Jason (again, being the good friends that they are) don’t try particularly hard to stop him.

Then they go on a hunt for the ring.

It’s definitely the hardest part; Grover, who’s been saving up for this particular item since his senior year of high school, makes them go to _seven _different jewelry shops to see different styles and colors before dragging them back to the very first one and gets the first one they saw.

It’s beautiful, Percy has to admit; Juniper doesn’t really like big gem stones or anything, so it’s just a silver band with white-gold vines twisting around it like grapevines. A few tiny diamonds are set into the vines, making it glitter when it hits the light.

Percy mostly plans the proposal; Jason pretends to help, though he doesn’t actually end up _doing _anything, and Grover mostly just freaks out in the background. But it goes perfectly, and Grover comes back with a permanently dazed, happy look on his face, while Jason and Percy mostly dance around squealing and begging for details.

The couple decides to finish college before getting married, which Percy’s grateful for; he doesn’t have time to study for exams and plan his best friend’s wedding at the Same time, so. It’s all good.

•

The summer after his sophomore year, on his twentieth birthday, he and Annabeth have a fight.

They’re just sitting and talking in the endless blackness of the Time Vortex, as they have been for probably hours, and then Percy tells her about Grover and Juniper are engaged and Jason and Piper are pretty serious, and Annabeth mentions it. “Any girls in your life, Percy?”

His jaw drops, because he honestly wouldn’t expect that question from _Annabeth, _of all people. “No, of course not,” he says, still a little shocked.

Annabeth looks annoyed. “Why?”

“Because… _you_,” Percy replies, dumbfounded.

Annabeth huffs. “Percy—you’re in some of the best years of your life, right now. You should be finding a girl who can be there for you, who you can get your happy ending with. I don’t want to be the reason you’re forever—” she scoffs, “_pining _over someone who will never be able to be human, to get married and I don’t know, do all the things humans usually do.”

Percy can’t believe his ears, and he stutters as he tries to explain. “Annabeth, I don’t—I don’t _want_ that. I lov—I mean, you’re it for me. Even if it’s just years in the Time Vortex, going to different places in time. I want to spend every minute I can with you,” he insists, because _why don’t you get it Annabeth I love you I love you—_

She bites her lip. “Percy… I can’t do this. I’m sorry. You don’t deserve someone like me—you deserve someone you can see every day, who can make you happy in all the ways I can’t.” Her eyelashes are little wet, and Percy thinks it’s the first time he’s ever seen her cry. “I just can’t—I can’t _live_ with the fact that you spend one day a year with me and then the rest of the year you just—” she gestures wildly, “spend your life alone.”

“But I don’t,” Percy protests. “I have Grover, and Jason, and my other friends at school, and my parents, and just—everyone. If I wanted a girlfriend in the real world, then I would have one. But I _don’t, _Annabeth, because my whole world revolves around my birthday and being able to spend that time with you.”

“That’s exactly what I’m worried about, Percy!” Annabeth bursts out, turning away. “I don’t _want _to be that imaginary fixture in your life that you only spend one day a year with. I just don’t understand why you would want me when you could—”

“Because I _love _you, Annabeth!” Percy yells.

The shocked silence is deafening; Annabeth’s wet grey eyes are round with surprise as she gazes at him, open-mouthed.

“I’m sorry,” Percy mutters, turning away, knowingshe can’t—won’t?—say it back. “I’m _sorry, _I just—”

Then Annabeth’s arms are around his neck, and she’s kissing him hard enough to bruise. “I love you too,” she gasps against his lips. “I do, I do, I just—”

“Can’t be with me,” Percy supplies, forehead resting against hers. “I know. I _know, _‘beth, and it kills me. But if all the time I have with you is once a year, then I’ll do my best to make sure I make the most of every second that I can.” He pulls back, a little grin tugging on his mouth. “Also, I’m pretty old-fashioned, so eventually I’m going to start counting my birthdays as dates. Since I can’t take you on real_, official _dates.”

“Oh?” she teases back. “Official dates, huh?”

He nods seriously. “Yup.”

She leans against his chest, fingers grazing his collarbone. “I’ve—I’ve never felt this way about—about _anyone_, let alone a human,” she says, her voice sounding strangely young, vulnerable. “But I treasure the time I have with you, too, and every single second that I can spend with you, I will. Okay?”

“Okay,” Percy breathes, cheek against her soft hair, and his universe tips itself back onto its axle, the world starts spinning normally again. “Okay.”

•

Percy, Jason, and Grover graduate from college, Percy with his degree as a Latin teacher, Jason working his way up in professional soccer teams, and Grover with his Bachelor’s in Environmentalism. It’s exhilarating, even better than graduating from high school, but it’s a little scary, too. For the first time, they’re real, actual adults; they have to get apartments and full-time jobs and just. _Everything._

Jason and Piper buy their first apartment together, and Percy ends up crying at their house-warming party. Grover and Jason are right there blubbering with him, so it’s okay. They’re best friends, after all. Piper and Juniper, used to their antics, just roll their eyes. The five of them are pretty much family by now, anyway.

Grover and Juniper start going crazy looking for houses, and force the other three to help them try to find potential options. Several weeks go by before Grover and Percy find a tiny house in a suburb about twenty minutes from the city. It’s old and dilapidated, but Juniper _loves _it. She makes Grover, Jason and Percy help her tear up the moldy carpet and put in floorboards, repaint all the walls in cool, earthy shades of brown and green and cream, and fix the horribly leaky plumbing.

Piper, who got her degree in interior design, offers her skills as a wedding present for the happy couple. Juniper actually cries as she throws her arms around her best friend, and Piper grins.

She gets Percy and Jason to go with her to flea markets and garage sales, searching for old wooden furniture and vintage light fixtures. She spends days sanding and repainting the furniture a pretty cream color, and then forces Jason to help her with fixing the bad wiring in the house so she can put up adorable, quirky chandeliers and lamps all over the place. There are lots of hand-braided rugs on the wooden floor in shades of green and cream, and Piper repaints the cabinets and puts in new faucets and handlebars and even hires a guy to put a giant island in the middle of the kitchen.

As a final touch, she gets a million potted plants and sets them in decorative spots around the house, and then declares that it’s finished.

Percy’s a little in awe. The house had been a dump, and now it looked like it could be on a house-decorating magazine. It’s kind of insane.

Grover andJuniper _both_ cry when Piper finally allows them to visit the house, near the beginning of August. There’s a little stream in the backyard bubbling merrily, and Piper’s planted flowers along the stone walkway leading from the driveway. Percy mowed the lawn earlier, and Jason spent an entire _week_ putting on a fresh coat of creamy paint on the outside of the little house and the newly renovated wrap-around porch.

It’s gorgeous, Percy has to admit, and Grover and Juniper are positively gushingas Piper gives them the tour.

Piper beams, and Jason watches her sappily. Percy would tease them about it, but his heart feels like it might overflow with love for the people in his life.

It feels almost perfect.

•

The date for the wedding was set for mid-September back in March, and Grover had asked Percy and Jason to be his joint best men before he even proposed. They’d both cried a little and agreed, _obviously_.

Percy’s kind of stressing over it, though, and on his 22nd birthday when he meets Annabeth, he’s kind of panicking because _the wedding’s only like a month away and we haven’t written a speech yet and Annabeth help me—_

“You’ll be _fine, _Percy,” she sighs, rolling her eyes. “You and Jason both love Grover, and he loves you guys. Any speech you write is going to be great.”

“Yeah, but what if we mess it up? Or what if no one thinks our jokes are funny?” Percy whines, his head in her lap as she runs her fingers through his hair.

She rolls her eyes again. “You’re twenty-two, Percy. I’m sure they’ll think your jokes are funny.” Percy’s slightly mollified, until she adds, “…probably.”

“You’re _not_ helping,” he groans. “Also, I have to have a _date, _and Juniper or Piper will probably try to set me up with one of the other bridesmaids, and _ugh._”

“You’re supposed to have a date?” Annabeth questions. Her voice sounds a little guarded.

“Yeah, but don’t worry, I can probably avoid it,” Percy replies with a cheeky grin. He notices she looks a little put off, and he realizes that Annabeth, the Time Guardian, is jealous of his hypothetical date. “Aw, are you worried someone’s going to take your place?” he teases, tugging on a curl that’s fallen out of her bun playfully.

She looks annoyed, stroking his hair silently, and Percy takes the opportunity to study her. There are light lavender circles under her eyes, like she’s tired, and her long brown curls are pulled up into a messy bun. She’s wearing a blue sweater and jeans today, and she smells like vanilla.

Percy loves her so much. He sits up and kisses her; she makes a surprised noise, but then relaxes and kisses him back, and he can feel her smile against his mouth.

“Don’t worry, ‘beth,” he murmurs against her lips. “No one could ever take your place.”

•

Grover’s wedding day starts with a bang.

_Literally._

They’re staying in hotel near to the church where the wedding’s going to be held, and Grover, Percy, and Jason are all stuffed into _one_ bedroom. Because Grover’s the groom, he decides he gets one of the twin beds, and Jason and Percy have to share the other one.

They grumble about it, but Grover’s annoyingly stubborn. Percy privately thinks his best friend is slightly milking the whole _it’s my wedding _thing.

One time in their senior year of college they came home after a party and Grover and Jason’s beds were completely filled up with trash and dirty laundry, so all three of them crashed in Percy’s tiny dorm bed. It was an interesting night, to say the least, but. At least they know it can be done.

The night before the wedding, when they arrive at the hotel after the bachelor’s party, Jason literally _shoves_ Percy into a wall and takes a flying leap onto the bed so he can get the inside. Percy runs and jumps on him, to make up for it, which turns into a full-out pillow fight that lasts for several hours.

(They’re totally mature adults, okay. Not five-year-olds.)

Needless to say, it’s Percy who gets pushed out of bed the next morning by Jason, who’s cuddling vigorously with his pillow. He lands on the floor with a crash and bangs his elbow, which scares Jason so bad that he falls out of bed too, directly on top of Percy.

Grover is awoken on his wedding day to blearily look over and find his two best friends on top of each other on the ground, groaning. To be honest, it’s a pretty accurate summary of their friendship.

Then Mr. Green bursts into the room (“honestly, can’t anyone _knock _around here,” Jason grumbles), and he makes them get out of bed and take showers and _seriously, Percy, do something about your hair! _

Percy’s a little offended as he pats down his hair; it’s an_ effortless bedhead style_, he protests_. That’s a thing, right? That’s totally a thing._

But they take turns using the tiny shower, and Mr. Green and Mr. Underwood make them eat breakfast. Grover claims he’s too nervous to eat right before eating three plates of the breakfast feast that the hotel offers.

It’s a flurry of preparations. Grover insists he that he _needs_ to go over his vows one more time and since Juniper and the bridesmaids stayed at her parents’ house, he makes Jason stand in for Juniper. They make Percy leave the room after his snickers grew too loud for them to focus, so he wanders the hallways, facetiming Piper, who’s the maid-of-honor. They complain together about Grover and Juniper freaking out, and Piper makes him promise to go video Grover saying his romantic vows to her boyfriend.

Percy’s an awesome friend, so he sneaks in and videos his friends saying wedding vows to each other. Grover’s hair is still wet and sticking to his forehead, and Jason’s in boxers and a Sponge Bob tee shirt, his glasses lopsided on his nose while Grover gushes about how much he loves him, so it’s fantastic video.

Seriously, he’s such an awesome best friend. No one appreciates him enough.

Piper sends a video of herself snorting with laughter at the video, and it turns into an epic contest of who can snort louder. Percy’s pretty sure he won; he never wants to see the inside of Piper’s nose ever again, but. It’s great.

The rest of the morning is spent in preparation for the wedding and setting up the venue for the reception and dancing afterwards. It’s a gorgeous museum a few blocks from the church that has beautiful gardens and paths, and the hall is going to be great for dancing.

Percy’s pretty excited, because he and Jason helped put together the playlist, and while there are a few nice, sweet, romantic songs, there are also a bunch like _YMCA _and _Shut Up and Dance with Me, _so it’s going to be lit. There are also a ton of songs from Disney movies, including Percy’s favorite, _Tale as Old as Time, _and Jason’s favorite, _I see the Light, _and of course Grover’s, which is _So This is Love _from Cinderella.

So they’re all secret saps for romantic Disney songs and outdated pop. Whatever.

Finally, Mr. Green makes them all put on their uncomfortable tuxedos and they all pile into the car. Percy, Jason, and Grover are uncomfortably squished in the back, while Mr. Green and Mr. Underwood ride and chat in the spacious front.

It’s not entirely fair. Percy pouts on the ride to the church.

When they arrive, it’s a flurry of _go put this up _and _Percy get over here _and _for heaven’s sake get someone to do your hair—_and Percy dutifully trots upstairs and finds the door where all the bridesmaids are getting their hair done.

“Hi, uh, can someone do my hair?” he asks awkwardly as the door opens, a gaggle of chattering girls inside.

“Hey, Percy,” Piper, in her dress and her makeup done, waves from a chair where she’s getting her hair curled. “Pull up a chair.”

Percy scrambles to find a chair. Juniper, in her wedding dress, enters the room and spots him. “Percy! Thank heavens, I’m not allowed to go downstairs to see Grover, can you give him this?” She hands him a velvet box; Percy assumes it’s her ring, which Grover was _supposed_ to have in his pocket already.

“Sure,” Percy replies. “You look awesome, by the way,” he adds charmingly, and she flushes with pleasure.

He and Piper had been on the dress committee, going to stores with a frazzled Juniper months beforehand in an attempt to find the perfect one. They finally found it, after hours of searching: it’s a creamy-white and has lace flowing like waterfalls around Juniper’s slim form. It’s bohemian and woodsy and exactly Juniper’s style. She looks great, and Percy grins.

Grover’s probably going to die when he sees her.

She kisses his cheek, beaming. “Thanks, Percy. Make _sure _you don’t forget to give Grover the ring, ‘kay?”

“Okay, I won’t,” Percy replies, amused. She waves as she leaves, and Percy wiggles his fingers with a grin.

Piper looks up from her phone to watch as a hairstylist starts working magic on Percy’s hair. “Ooo, looking good there, Percy,” she teases, leaning closer for a selfie. She puts it on the flower-crown Snapchat filter, and Percy sticks out his tongue and crosses his eyes at the camera.

Piper’s right, though. His hair does look pretty good when the stylist is done. He thanks the guy and exits the room, smelling strongly like too much hairspray. He’s also pretty sure he has glitter on his suit and he has noidea how it got there, but it’s too late to fix it now.

The ceremony starts at four; around 3:30, Percy, Jason, and one of Grover’s other friends, a cool geek named Leo, are goofing off as they head down the stairs, when Percy sees a head of long brown curls. He does a double-take, his traitorous mind thinking _it’s Annabeth, _before remembering that Annabeth can’t be here.

He feels his slight hope deflate and is about to turn his attention back onto the story Leo’s telling when the girl turns around and—

_It really is Annabeth._

Percy halts, forgetting that Jason is behind him taking the steps two-at-a-time; his best friend plows into him, which causes Percy to run into Leo, and they all tumble down the last couple stairs to land at the bottom with a giant crash.

He’s a teensy bit dazed; Leo’s foot is in his mouth and Jason’s completely on top of him, dangling like a rag doll. The people loitering and chatting in the lobby have all gone silent, and Percy can feel his face flaming.

Then a hand reaches down to help him up, and Percy looks into a pair of clear grey eyes. “Smooth, Percy. _Really _smooth,” she says dryly, a warm, bright smile fixed on her face, and Percy thinks he might cry, because _it’s her it’s her it’s her—_

Jason, of course, breaks the moment by grunting, “Percy, your foot is in my ear—” and then they’re all shouting at each other and tripping over legs and arms in their attempts to get up.

When Percy’s finally standing on two feet again, albeit slightly rumpled, he just stops and stares at Annabeth, slack-jawed and wide-eyed. She laughs at him, the slight flush in her cheeks making her look adorable and a little self-conscious, but. He can’t _help _it. The girl he loves is here to share in one of the happiest experiences of his life.

She’s wearing a floor-length light blue dress, her long curls loose and flowing; Percy thinks she looks a little like Cinderella. The little freckles on her nose are scrunched as she grins, and he can see the tiny scar on her cheekbone, and just. She’s _here. _Annabeth is here, and it’s not his birthday, and other people can see her.

He thought it was impossible, and he says so when he finally gets his voice again. “How are you here?” he asks, throat dry and his mind still buzzing with doubt.

“I’ll tell you later,” she promises, taking his hands. “For now, let’s just say—I love you and I wanted to be with you. For real.”

She kisses him sweetly, gently, and Percy thinks he might explode with happiness. He can feel the curve of her smile under his lips, taste the mint on her breath, smell the vanilla of her perfume. It’s intoxicating.

He leans his forehead against hers, eyes closed, just breathing in her presence. “It’s you,” he finally says; his voice is a little wobbly, a little broken, but it’s okay. “It’s really you.”

“Of course it’s me, idiot,” Annabeth teases gently. “I love you and I’m here.”

He wants the moment to last forever, but like all the others, it ends. This time it’s by Jason behind him, asking cautiously, “Um. Percy. _Who_ is this, exactly?”

Percy turns, and Annabeth has a shy smile on her face. “I’m Annabeth,” she supplies.

“My girlfriend,” Percy says proudly, looking at her sappily. She’s tucked into his arm, grinning sweetly, and Percy feels like he’s on a cloud.

“Your _what?_” Jason asks, looking befuddled.

Percy remembers one slight detail: he’s never mentioned a girlfriend to Jason and Grover.

Well, this should be fun.

“She, uh, lives in Canada,” he blurts, at the same time as Annabeth says, “I live in London,” and they both glare at each other before Annabeth clarifies, “I live in Manitoba, but I’m going to a university in London.”

“Oh.” Jason still looks extremely confused, and Percy doesn’t really blame him. “Why haven’t you ever mentioned her, Percy? Where did you guys meet?”

“Uh, we met online, actually,” Percy says, rubbing the back of his neck. “That’s why I’m so surprised to see her, this is the first time we’ve ever actually met, right, babe?”

Annabeth grins a little, interlacing her fingers through his. “Yeah,” she replied, beaming up at him. “It’s pretty cool.”

“Can I talk to you for a second, Percy?” Jason asks, not looking incredibly happy. Percy can’t imagine why—_he_ feels like he could conquer the world.

He raises his eyebrows, but follows after giving Annabeth a quick kiss. “Stay here, ‘kay?” he says quietly, studying her face. “I’ll be right back.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Annabeth replies, and Percy’s heart sings.

Once they’re in private, Jason turns on Percy, his brow crinkling. “What the heck, man?” he asks, spreading his hands. “You have a secret girlfriend and you didn’t tell me or Grover?”

“It’s—it’s pretty new, and Grover and Juniper are getting married, and you and Pipes were moving in together, and it just—I just never got around to telling you guys,” Percy explains, gesturing wildly. “I would have told you before, but I’ve never even met her before this, and—well, it’s relatively new, but I’ve got a good feeling about this, Jase.”

Jason looks slightly mollified. “Okay. Okay, I get that. And—that’s cool, Percy. Does she make you happy?”

Percy thinks of all the stolen moments lost from time in the vortex, their journeys around the world, their first kiss and their kiss just now and all the ones sprinkled in between; he thinks of their first meeting and what she did for him, thinks of all the ways Annabeth has saved him over the years.

“Yeah,” he replies softly, ducking his head. “Yeah, she really does.”

Jason’s gaze softens, and he claps Percy’s shoulder before opening the door of the little room and gesturing for Percy to exit. “Then I’m happy for you,” he says firmly. “Besides, she’s really cute. Not my type, but damn, dude. You know how to pick ‘em, apparently.”

Percy grins a little as he walks through the door. “Yeah, I guess I do.”

•

Percy hates walking down the aisle.

For one, he’s escorting one of Juniper’s bridesmaids—he’s pretty sure her name is Lacy or Lucy or something like that, he wasn’t really paying attention during the rehearsal—who apparently doesn’t get the whole _less is more _idea with perfume. Percy can barely _breathe, _it’s so strong.

And then when they’re walking down the aisle—it’s an _enormous _church, filled to the brim with people because Grover and Juniper know everyone, apparently, and he can feel a million eyes and him and it’s terrible. What if he trips? What if he farts? What if he has a disgusting facial expression and he doesn’t realize it until he sees the pictures later?

Well, it’s too late; they’ve started walking. He sees Annabeth, sitting near the front, and she gives him a little wink.

The two of them didn’t really get to talk after Jason and Percy conversed. Mrs. Underwood made Percy go upstairs with the other groomsmen, and he only had time for a quick kiss and a promise to find her afterwards. Annabeth had nodded, smiling, and Percy thought that if someone could die from happiness, he would definitely be dead already.

Percy jerks his thoughts back to the present as Lacy, the flowy dress all the bridesmaids are wearing rippling as she moves, turns to the right and ascends the steps to where Piper is waiting. Percy carefully goes up the other side to stand next to Jason.

He looks out over the enormous sea of faces and feels a little faint. _Don’t lock your knees, _he reminds himself. _You do not want to pass out on Grover’s wedding day._

Within a few more minutes, all the bridesmaids and groomsmen are assembled onstage, and Juniper’s father is escorting her down the aisle. Percy can only see part of Grover’s face from where he’s standing, but he can see tears on his cheek, and sees Grover half-laughing, half-sobbing as he sees his bride walking down the aisle.

Percy’s heart swells with happiness, and he may or may not wipe a couple tears from his face. He can see Jason in his peripheral subtly brushing away his own tears, so at least neither of them can tease the other about crying.

It’s one of those days that crying is okay. Percy doesn’t know how much more joy his heart can take, but he’s ready to test the limits.

Grover and Juniper say their vows to each other, beaming brightly, and the minister talks for a while before saying, “And now, would the groom please give the bride her ring?” and Percy freezes_._

_ He forgot to give Grover the ring._

“Oh no, oh no, oh no,” he mutters under his breathe, feeling in all his pockets for the box. It’s not there, and he remembers their giant pile-up in the lobby earlier.

_Crap. _

He descends the stage, heedless to Grover and Juniper’s confused looks, and sprints down the aisle. The crowd begins laughing, realizing what happened, but Percy ignores them and enters the lobby.

_Now to find the ring. _

Thankfully, it isn’t hard. The little box had rolled near one of the potted plants, and Percy stoops and grabs it before dashing back down the long aisle, coming to a screeching halt next to Grover, and proudly pants, “Here’s the ring!”

Juniper rolls her eyes as a befuddled-looking Grover takes the box, and by this time the audience is in stitches. Percy ascends the steps two-at-a-time. When he turns around, he sees Annabeth in the crowd, shaking with laughter, and he beams as the ceremony continues.

The rest of the wedding goes without a hitch. Percy and Jason are both blubbering by the time their friends kiss and the minister says, “Now, in the power vested to me by the state of New York, I announce Grover and Juniper Underwood as husband and wife!”

Piper looks over from where she’s standing stiffly and sticks out her tongue at them, but Percy sees her subtly wipe away a tear from her cheek, so. She can’t really talk.

The triumphant music plays as the newly married couple nearly skips down the aisle. Jason and Piper follow, and then Percy takes Lacy’s arm and they run down to catch up. He only trips over his own feet once, so Percy considers it a win.

Then there’s a flurry of everyone getting into cars for the ride down to the venue. Percy gets shoved into the backseat of a car that’s _probably_ supposed to only hold three people, but they fit him, Jason, Piper, and four other people in the back, so. They’re good at the whole bending-the-rules thing.

They arrive at the museum and all pile out of the car like a bunch of clowns. Piper tears the bottom of her dress when Jason accidently steps on it, and Percy somehow manages to get a shoeprint on his pant leg, but no one is seriously injured, so they’re all good. After quickly heading inside, the wedding party has to go to the gardens and take an _insane_ amount a pictures. Percy’s pretty sure he was either grimacing or blinking in most of them, but whatever. It’s not his _fault, _anyway, because Jason pinched him at least twice, and the late-afternoon sun is in his eyes, and it’s disgustingly hot out so he’s sweaty and gross and the gel in his hair is wilting pathetically.

_Finally _they’re done, and the doors to the reception hall are just opening for dinner. Percy stands on his tiptoes above the crowd of chattering friends and family, searching for a head of curly brown hair. Jason, smirking, comes up to him a few seconds later with Annabeth on his arm.

“Looking for someone?” he asks.

Percy scowls. “Rude,” he says, taking Annabeth’s arm. “Where’s Pipes?”

“Right here,” Piper says, pushing her way through the crowd. Her makeup is a little smeared and a few wisps of hair have fallen from her updo, but she still looks good.

“Who’s this?” Piper asks pleasantly as the crowd of people moves sluggishly through the doors, everyone scrambling to find seats.

“His _girlfriend, _Annabeth,” Jason supplies helpfully. Percy glares at him.

“What, you have a girlfriend, Percy? Why didn’t you tell us?” Piper cries, grinning. She sticks out her hand, not waiting for an answer to her question. “Hi, Annabeth. It’s so good to meet you. I’m Piper, and this is my boyfriend Jason, and I’m best friends with this dork,” she finishes, gesturing to Percy.

Percy would probably be mildly offended if it wasn’t Piper talking, and they hadn’t FaceTimed that morning for half an hour seeing who could snort the loudest. “Yep, that’s Piper,” he introduces Annabeth.

“Hello, Piper. It’s a pleasure,” Annabeth says warmly. Percy watches dopily as a beautiful smile transforms her already gorgeous face when she shakes Piper’s hand.

Jason’s watching him rather suspiciously, and Percy supposes he should mask the whole in-love puppy eyes thing—this is, supposedly, the first time he and Annabeth have met—but he can’t _help _it. He loves her. She’s real and perfect and it’s his best friend’s wedding day and the girl he loves is _here_ and he really doesn’t think he could get any happier.

Piper chatters on, “You can sit with us—technically it’s supposed to be just the wedding party, but Will is bringing his girlfriend and I think Leo snuck Sophie a chair, so it’ll be fine. Where do you live? Where did you guys meet?”

“I’m going to a university in London, but I live in Manitoba,” Percy hears Annabeth reply as he stands on his tiptoes above the crowd, trying to find the wedding table.

“To your left,” Jason directs, and the four of them fight their way through the crowd to the long wedding-party table at the front of the room.

Grover, who’s sitting next to Juniper, jumps up when they arrive. “Hey guys!” he greets them, his pale face flushed from the heat of the too-warm reception hall. Percy silently hands him a random program he found on the ground, and Grover begins fanning his face vigorously. “You all are sitting right here, on this side—oh, who’s this?”

“This is his girlfriend!” Piper exclaims, beaming, and Grover’s eyes widen.

“His _what?_”

Percy sighs, because this is going to get old _really_ quickly_. _“This is my girlfriend, Grover. Don’t be a butt.”

Grover looks about to pepper him with questions, but just then Juniper calls him back to the table, and he leaves with a parting, “Okay, but I am totally getting these deets later!”

“I think you’ll be a little occupied for the rest of the night,” Percy calls back cheekily.

Annabeth chuckles next to him. “Ready to sit down?” she inquires, motioning to where Jason and Piper saved them both seats next to them.

“Yep,” Percy replies, grinning down at her. Piper wiggles her eyebrows and makes a heart with her hands over Annabeth’s head as they sit down, so Percy can see it, and he sticks out his tongue at her.

They all trot up to the hugely long table and start piling their plates with food. The Underwoods paid for dinner, and they really went all out. It’s an enormous buffet—honestly, Percy’s not sure if he’s ever seen this much food in one place. He begins to pile his plate high, but decides to play it safe and just go for seconds after Jason accidently drops his plate and pasta salad goes _everywhere._

After eating, it’s time for the speeches. Piper goes first and has the audience in stitches with some stories with Juniper as her roommate and best friend in college, and Percy’s crying with laughter remembering some of them. When she’s done, Percy and Jason get up together and read their speech; Percy reads one paragraph and Jason the next, and so on. The audience is soon cracking up at their anecdotes and personal examples of growing up with Grover, and Grover himself is shaking his head at the table, face bright red, but smiling.

And _then_ it’s time for dancing.

First, Grover and Juniper dance to an slow, sweet Ed Sheeran song. Percy watches them dopily as they gaze into each other’s eyes and whisper things meant only for each other’s ears. Then Juniper and her dad have a father-daughter dance, and Grover dances with his mom, and then an outdated pop song begins to blast over the speaker.

Percy grins over at Annabeth; she winks and undoes her heels. Piper, a devilish glint in her eye, motions for them, and they all trot to the dance floor and just _dance, _waving their hands wildly and forming chains of people on the crowded floor. Jason executes some seriously awful dance moves before Percy and Grover both join him, spinning on the floor and dabbing and joining hands and running in circles until they’re going so fast that they all let go and catapult to different corners of the room.

It’s fantastic; Percy can’t remember the last time he laughed this hard. He dances with Juniper, and Piper, and Jason spins on one foot before face planting into the ground, and the crowd roars.

And then _So This is Love _comes on, and everyone separates into couples. He meets Annabeth’s eyes, and she moves toward him with a smile on her face.

It’s the first chance they’ve had to talk all day, and while the song is humming through the speakers, Percy asks quietly, “How are you here, ‘beth?”

She’s so close he can see the tiny specks of blue in her grey eyes as they sway. “I—well, it’s hard to explain,” she begins, biting her lip.

“I’ve got time,” Percy says gently.

Annabeth looks into his eyes. “That’s the thing, Percy. I don’t.”

A stone drops in his chest, cold and threatening. “What do you mean?”

She looks away. “I have until midnight, and then I have to go back to—being a Time Guardian, not being human.”

“_What?_” Percy asks, dumbfounded, because this can’t be happening, not when she is finally real and in his arms, not when he thought they had forever and now they have until _midnight—_

“It’s complicated, you probably won’t understand—”

“Try me,” says Percy, a little roughly.

“Every Time Guardian has—something like a second chance,” Annabeth begins, her voice shaky. “After… after someone becomes a Time Guardian, they’re allowed a twelve-hour time period where they can be human again for one day, and once they’ve used it, he or she has one chance to become human again. Only one guardian has ever actually used his chance to become human again; no one else has done it because it’s—it’s an extremely difficult decision.”

Percy wordlessly squeezes her hand, and Annabeth smiles a little before continuing.

“First, you get all your memories as a Time Guardian erased and go back to the age you were when you became a guardian, only in modern time.”

_So she would go back to being nine, only—what, this moment in time? The age I was when first met her? _Percy wonders. He has so many questions, but he doesn’t want to make it any more complicated than her explanation already is.

“…and then—certain, small events in time can be changed,” she continues, oblivious to his thoughts. “Sometimes the changes are minuscule—only affecting one life, especially if that person has had contact with the guardian—but other times the damage can be catastrophic.”

Percy feels a fleeting sense of hope for a second, that maybe she could become human, maybe they could have their life together—but then he remembers the tidbits she’s told him about being a Time Guardian, the things she’s done and experienced and accomplished. He doesn’t know much about what Time Guardians even do, but he knows she _loves _her life. She would never want to go back to being human, would never choose to have all those memories and experiences erased. She would never want to perhaps risk time, perhaps change things in the past or the future.

He could never ask her to make that incredible sacrifice for him. He isn’t _worth_ it, worth giving up all that for a messy human life with flaws and mistakes and disappointments.

Annabeth continues, “Many guardians use their twelve-hour block in the beginning, but I’ve been saving mine for over two hundred years, and—”

“And you used it today, so we could be together,” he supplies, stunned with the value of the gift she’s given him. “_Annabeth—_”

She smiles sadly, pressing a finger to his lips. “I wanted to be with you. For real. Just once. So now—” she gestures around the room, “we have until midnight.”

He kisses her. “Okay, Cinderella,” he murmurs, and she laughs a little against his lips.

Percy can’t say that he’s not crushed that they only have about four hours left together, not when he had hoped for a lifetime, but he meant what he said on his twentieth birthday. He’s willing to make the most of all the time they have, and if she’s going to be human for the next four hours, then he wants to be with her as much as he possibly can.

_So This is Love_ is humming on, about to come to an end, and he kisses her desperately, memorizing the feel of her under his lips, because _they don’t have much time—_

“I love you,” he whispers as they sway together to the ending strains of the song.

“I love you too,” she murmurs back, head against his chest, and Percy tries to hang onto this moment forever. He knows that soon the clock will strike midnight, and she’ll be gone.

•

They send Grover and Juniper off in a blaze of sparklers. Percy, Jason, and Piper had painted corny _Just Married! _and _True Love!_ and hearts all over the car, and then wrapped it completely in plastic wrap and toilet paper. They tied a dozen used Coke cans to the back, so it rattles horrifically whenever the car moves.

Juniper cries laughing when she comes out and sees it, and Grover just rolls his eyes, but he can’t stop a smile from spreading on his face.

After they’ve shouted their goodbyes until the rattling car is far out of sight, he and Annabeth grab a taxi and head back to the hotel. Mr. Underwood rented him a separate room with a queen bed for the night—now that Grover’s off to little motel with Juniper in the suburbs—and it’s nice, especially now that Annabeth’s here.

He’s a little nervous as they ride up the elevator. They’ve got less than two hours until Annabeth goes back to being a guardian, but this is the first time they’ve been able to just spend time with each other and have it actually happen, in real time, in the real world.

It’s more than a little strange, and they both know it. Percy’s hands shake as he fumbles with the key card to unlock their room. When they finally open the door, Percy sees his bag, and realizes Mr. Underwood must have moved it earlier from the room he had been in the night before.

He gestures awkwardly as they come in, closing the door behind him and setting the key card on the table. “Well—here it is.”

Annabeth grins a little, sitting on the bed and bouncing. When she catches sight of his amused expression, she scowls, “I haven’t been on a real bed in over two hundred years, Percy. Give me a break.”

He laughs as he unzips his bag, searching for some comfier clothes. “Bounce away. I’m going to put on some jeans.”

“Why, are we going somewhere?” she asks, but Percy closes the door pointedly, and hears her huff in annoyance.

After changing into jeans and a t-shirt, he heads down the hall to find Piper and ask her to lend him some clothes for Annabeth. She just wiggles her eyebrows and pulls out a casual outfit from her suitcase, complete with a pair of Converse sneakers.

“Have fun,” she tells him with a quick hug.

“Thanks,” he says, grinning, and goes back to his room. She changes in the bathroom, and when she comes out she’s wearing a pair of denim shorts and a grey t-shirt. He watches her pull her long hair into a ponytail as she asks again, “Where are we going?”

They head down the elevator and into the expensive-looking lobby. “You’ll see,” Percy teases, opening the door for her.

They walk down the sidewalk, fingers interlaced and talking about nothing in particular. Percy watches her face as she starts talking about the architecture in the city and different techniques that have been used in the buildings they pass, and he loves her so much that it hits him like a brick, the force of it making him a little dizzy. He halts on the sidewalk, and Annabeth pauses in her explanation of crown molding to glance up at him.

“What’s wrong?” she asks, her brow furrowing, and Percy can’t even answer. He just kisses her, a little uncontrollably, and feels her warm, happy smile under his mouth.

“I love you,” he says, and she snorts softly, taking his hand again.

“I love you too, dork.”

After walking a few blocks, they end up in front of a tiny little shop, the lights beaming merrily from the display window. “It’s a coffee shop,” Annabeth says, mouth opened in realization. “Percy, you’re bringing me on a real date.”

“An _official _date,” Percy says, grinning as he holds the door for her. “After you, m’lady.”

She rolls her eyes, but Percy can see the smile tugging at her lips, and he beams.

Annabeth gets a Frappuccino because of the hot, humid night air outside, and Percy gets a hot chocolate, which she scoffs at because _it’s the middle of a very warm September, Percy, you don’t get hot chocolate in September—_

“It’s _good,_” he insists stubbornly, taking an extra-long, obnoxious slurp just to prove it. Annabeth rolls her eyes fondly as she kisses him, and she tastes like sweet whip cream.

They find a little booth and talk quietly about the most random things, since neither of them want to bring up the fact that they don’t have much time left. After the waitress has been sending pointed glares their way for about half an hour, and both of their drinks have been empty for even longer than that, they head back outside.

The city lights twinkle, and Percy interlaces their fingers as Annabeth tells him the stories behind the constellations. He only half-listens, focusing instead on the way she ducks her head when she laughs, or the little huff she sends his way when she catches him grinning at her stupidly.

She leans her head on his shoulder as they walk, and he squeezes her hand.

•

Afterwards, they get back to the hotel and head up the elevator to Percy’s room. They take off their shoes, and Percy sprawls on the bed. Annabeth laughs at him, but then she climbs on the bed and holds him, laying her head on his chest. He presses a kiss to her hair, arms tightening around her shoulders, because _soon she’ll be gone—_

Then he pulls her up to him, kisses her gently. “Make the most of every second, right?” he teases, nudging her nose gently with his.

She laughs at him, but kisses him back. “Right,” she confirms breathlessly as she moves on top of him.

They’ve never been able to really kiss, not like this; it’s not like there are beds in the Time Vortex, and their kisses have always been, for the most part, quick, sweet, and chaste.

This is anything but chaste; Annabeth’s hands are everywhere, in his hair, his waist, his hips, raking her nails down his back, creating lightning bolts that spark and fly up and down his spine. Percy groans into her mouth as he flips her over, sucking at a spot on her jaw that makes her whine, hands wandering over the smooth skin under her shirt.

He gets his shirt off in between breathless kisses and takes her back into his arms; he never wants to let go of her. She exhales his name as his hands slide up her back, panting in his ear; he buries his face into her neck when she kisses a spot on his jaw.

“I love you,” she breathes. “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

He kisses her hard enough to bruise, hands squeezing her thighs. “I love you too,” he pants, peppering kisses all over her face.

He pulls back long enough for Annabeth to get her shirt off, and it’s sufficient to say that they don’t do much talking for a while after that.

•

Later, they lie in a tangle of limbs on the bed, Annabeth’s head on his chest, both wrapped in sheets and nothing else.

Percy glances over at the clock on the bedside table. _Twenty minutes until midnight. _They both feel it, both know it, but neither mention it; the silence is golden and blissfully ignorant of what awaits.

Annabeth raises her head so she can look at him, and Percy wants to remember her like this: curls mussed and soft, her grey eyes glowing in the lamplight. She looks effervescent, barely human, and Percy supposes it’s true.

“I wish…” she begins softly, before stopping.

“Yeah?” Percy encourages.

She bites her lip. “I wish this moment could last forever, you know?”

He nestles her head back against his chest; he can feel her heartbeat, warm and soft and real, and he knows that he loves her.

“I know,” he says, and then—“I love you.”

“I love you too,” she says, and Percy falls asleep with his arms around her, her head on his chest, and he thinks, if there was a moment in all his life that he wanted to last forever, this would be it.

It would definitely be it.

•

He wakes up the next morning, sun shining through the windows onto the rumpled sheets, and the left side of the bed is empty.

•

It becomes almost _harder, _after that, to only see Annabeth once a year. Percy has the precious memories of her in his arms, for that one night; the murmur of her whispered _I love you _in his ears, and then when he opens his eyes her absence hurts him like a physical blow to the heart.

He still sees her like normal, though, aging along with him every year on his birthday, and he updates her about his life. He tells his friends that Annabeth didn’t work out; they’re sympathetic, especially Piper, but he knows none of them really understand.

A few months after the Underwoods’ wedding, Percy gets hired by a local high school as the new language teacher and swim coach, and he loves it; loves the kids, and the work, and figuring out how to teach.

A few years later, when Percy’s twenty-six, Jason and Piper finally get married. It’s a smaller wedding, with less fanfare, but just as beautiful. Grover and Percy are, of course, the joint best men, and Juniper’s the maid of honor.

The Graces buy a home in Grover and Juniper’s neighborhood, and Percy feels a little left out, still living in his tiny apartment in the city, but they all go out for dinner at least twice a week, and Friday nights are always either game night or movie night.

It’s still strange to him how the dynamic of their friendship has shifted. While he, Grover, and Jason remain as close as ever, his friends are happily married, living their own lives, _settled. _Percy still feels like he’s wandering, never actually able to come home. On his birthday, though, when he sees Annabeth, it’s like a piece of him clicks back into place that’s missing the rest of the year.

Percy supposes it’s the truth.

It’s not even a surprise, the year that he’s thirty-one, when a glowing Juniper announces she’s pregnant at game night. Percy and Jason burst into tears, like proud parents themselves, and Piper wryly hands them tissues before congratulating her best friend with a tight hug and an exclamation of _it’s about time you popped out a kid, babe! _because she’s Piper.

That next July, the baby is born; Grover alternates between being in the room with Juniper to waiting anxiously with Percy and Jason. The three of them wait in the hospital halls—alternatively pacing, sitting down, yelling, and swearing before getting back up to pace—and they sleep in shifts, until about 4am when all three of them conk out on one of the benches.

Percy wakes up with Jason drooling on his neck and Grover’s head in his lap and Mrs. Green announcing _it’s a girl! _before he shoves his friends awake and they all rush in to see the baby.

“Meet Alyssa Piper Underwood,” Grover says proudly as his wife tearily hands the baby to him, and he looks down wonderingly at his daughter. Percy watches him, and he’s so, _so_ happy for his best friends, but that tiny spark of jealousy peeks up as he watches his brother with his newborn daughter.

_I’m never going to be able to experience that_, he thinks as Grover hands the baby to Jason. He watches as Piper comes up behind her husband, a hand on his shoulder as she, too, looks down at the newborn with an expression on her face that Percy recognizes as hope.

Hope for the future, hope for their family, hope that one day this will be them.

A hope that Percy will never have.

He shakes away his thoughts as Jason turns to him. “You want to hold her, Percy?” he asks, and Percy replies by holding out his arms, because _why would you even ask, dude—_

And suddenly there’s this tiny, fragile little human in his arms; she’s warm and feels like clay as he supports her head, like he could bend her petite body without even trying.

Her eyes, previously stuck shut, open a little, and Percy sees a crack of grey-blue. He chokes a little, moving one of his arms out so he can touch the tiny little nose and ears, the peach-fuzz on her head, the mouth that’s the size of a penny, and he starts crying, whether from happiness or sadness he doesn’t really know. All the swirling emotions in his heart combine with exhaustion, and he just sobs quietly as he rocks the baby.

Grover and Juniper, conversing inaudibly on the bed, don’t even notice. Jason, who seems to at least slightly understand Percy’s storm, softly takes Piper’s arm and leads her out into the hallway.

After a few more minutes, Percy gently transfers the baby to Juniper, who looks exhausted. He supposes she’s probably far more tired than he is, and he presses a kiss to her temple before leaving the room so the couple can be alone with their daughter.

Outside, Piper’s alone, sipping a cup of coffee. She, too, looks weary; her hair is greasy and pulled into a messy ponytail, and she’s wearing a pair of stained leggings and a giant, long-sleeved sleep shirt.

“Hey, Percy,” she greets him, her eyes brightening a little. “Jason’s gone to grab a cup of coffee and some food at the hospital café, do you want to go join him—” but she cuts off when Percy inexplicably bursts into tears again.

Piper steps forward and wraps her arms around him, hugging him fiercely. Percy hugs back just as tightly, swaying a little as he cries into her shoulder.

“I know,” she murmurs into his shirt. Her petite frame barely even comes to his shoulder, but for such a tiny person, she has _strong _hugs. “I know, Percy, it’s okay.”

Percy just keeps crying. It’s weirdly therapeutic, sobbing while hugging someone.

“It’s okay,” she continues, softly. “Eventually you’ll have your own kids. You’re only thirty-one, Percy, you’ve got time—”

Except he _doesn’t, _and Piper doesn’t know that, won’t ever understand, but Percy loves her for trying, and just sniffles into her shoulder.

Jason finds them like that, swaying together in the middle of the hallway. He’s bleary with a cup of coffee in his hand, and he seems a little confused before his wife sends him a _look_, and a glint of understanding enters his eye. “Group hug?” he offers, and Percy huffs out a laugh, wiping his eyes. All three of them just stand embracing in the hallway for probably longer then they should, but. No one minds.

When they’ve finally all pulled back and Jason has handed Percy his cup of slightly cold coffee, Piper continues, “And if there’s not girl in the universe who appreciates how amazing you are, then you can be the cool, eccentric bachelor uncle that brings everyone presents all the time and teaches the kids how to be cool in a way their parents never can,” and Jason nods enthusiastically.

“Yeah! Like, basically Tony Stark with nieces and nephews,” and Percy loves both of them so much he can hardly _breathe, _sometimes.

He sends them a grin, a little watery. “Yeah, and show them how to be cool in their punk phases, and how to be the best wingman _ever, _and—”

“You weren’t cool in your punk phase, you were like, _twelve,_” Jason scoffs, and that sparks a round of debate that somehow moves onto punk vampires, and Jason’s insisting “Yeah, well vampires can totally be vegan! They can just drink coconut water, I read somewhere you can use it as a substitute for blood—”

Just then, Grover walks out of Juniper’s room and freezes with a bewildered expression on his face—“did I miss something?” and the three of them laugh until they’re _sobbing_ while Grover just looks on, befuddled, and Jason’s just laying spread-eagle on the hospital floor weeping. Percy’s pretty sure they’re all drunk on exhaustion and emotion and caffeine anyway, so. They’re all good.

He has a family who loves him, and he’s got Annabeth, and he gets to be the cool eccentric uncle to Alyssa and all his other future nieces and nephews.

He’s good.

•

The next few years pass quietly; Percy and Jason are co-godfathers of little Alyssa Underwood, and they take their duties very seriously. By the time she’s two years old, Alyssa knows that if her parents say no, she can turn to her uncles and melt their joint resolve with just a _look._

Honestly, it’s unfair how much she gets her way. Percy wants her to teach him lessons. He’s at the Graces’ or Underwoods’ house more often than not, nowReynays, and Piper _never _lets him have cookies before dinner. He’s _thirty-three years old._ He deserves to eat dessert before dinner if he wants to.

For his birthday that year, he and Annabeth go to Ancient Greece and witness one of the first Olympics. It’s incredible, and he’s embarrassingly excited, and Annabeth laughs at him for being a nerd. He just sticks his tongue out at her.

In March of the year he’s thirty-four, Jason calls him, sloppy drunk and crying, to tell him that he needs someone to pick him up from the bar. Percy, who’s on babysitting duty because Grover and Juniper are having date night, sighs as he grabs his keys and buckles Alyssa into her carseat. It’s 10pm and she’s grumpy and sleepy, and Percy crosses his fingers that she’ll fall asleep on the drive.

His hopes are confirmed when five minutes after he starts driving, he glances back and sees Alyssa fast asleep, drooling on her sippy-cup. Percy chuckles as he turns back to the road.

When he pulls up to the bar, he sees Jason waiting outside, sitting on the curb with his head in his hands. Percy sighs, checks behind him to make sure Alyssa is still sleeping, and gets out of the car.

“Jason? Jase, buddy. Let’s get you home,” Percy says, striding over to where his blond friend is sitting, slumped on the curb.

Jason looks up; his baby-blue eyes are bloodshot, and Percy wonders how many drinks he’s had. “Percy?” he asks, squinting behind his glasses.

Percy huffs out a laugh and drapes Jason’s arm over his shoulder, making their slow way to his car. “Yeah, man. You called me to pick you up, remember?”

“No,” Jason admits, and Percy chuckles.

“Yeah, you look like you’ve had a rough night. Here,” he says, opening the car door and helping his friend buckle himself into the passenger seat before running around the hood and jumping into his own seat.

He pulls out and they start driving in silence; Percy’s knows it had to be something big to bring this on, because Jason doesn’t get drunk like this unless he’s really upset.

After about ten minutes, Percy ventures to ask, “So, buddy. What happened?”

Jason grunts, and after a few more minutes of silence, Percy thinks that’s all the answer he’s going to get, until—“Piper’s pregnant.”

“Piper’s pregnant?” Percy repeats, startled, but not _shocked _or anything, because honestly he’s just surprised it took this long. “But—Jase, that’s awesome. Why’re you upset?”

Jason starts crying, his voice a little choked. “Because… I don’t think I can be a good dad,” he sniffles, leaning his head against the window. “My dad…” he trails off.

Percy understands immediately. Jason’s dad is a millionaire who took care of Jason and Thalia’s material needs when they were growing up, but Percy doubts he knew they existed beyond their monetary expenses. It messed both of the siblings up, Jason probably even more than Thalia, and Percy feels a surge of hate towards Mr. Grace, because you don’t just _ignore _your children, you don’t just pretend they don’t exist beyond buying fancy cars or giving them money once in a while. You take care of them and talk to them and support them and tuck them in at night, because they’re your _kids._

He feels a wave of gratitude towards Mr. Underwood. His adopted father had always been there for Percy and Grover, was always in the audience of the school plays or swim meets, always doing his best to teach them basketball or taking a weekend off so they could go camping.

He was pretty lucky, Percy thinks; he had a pretty crappy childhood before the Underwoods, and he knows a lot of who he is today is due to their unending love and support.

Percy reaches over and claps Jason on the shoulder, still keeping his eyes on the road. “Hey, Jason. You’re not your dad, okay? You’re going to be a fantastic father, dude. I promise.”

“You think?” Jason sniffs.

Percy grins, a little lopsided. “I know.”

His friend nods, and the rest of the drive is silent. When he pulls into the Graces’ driveway, Piper runs out in a bathrobe. “Jason!” she says, and Percy sees the tear tracks on her cheeks.

“He’s okay,” Percy assures her as they both help a nearly-unconscious Jason into the house. “Just wasted.” It takes them a few more minutes to get a muttering Jason into bed. Percy takes off his shoes for him, and Piper pulls up the covers on her snoring husband before they go to the kitchen.

Piper worries her lip as she offers him some tea, and Percy forgoes the mug to pull her into a hug. “He told me on the way home,” he murmurs into her hair. “He’s not mad about the baby, I promise—he wants to be a good father, and he’s just scared because of his dad…” Percy trails off, and Piper pulls back, understanding in her eyes. He knows she’s heard stories, although the fact that she’s never met Jason’s father speaks for itself.

She nods, scrubbing her face wearily. “I guess—I mean, that makes sense. When he left without saying anything, I just—I freaked out, I guess. I didn’t know what to think.”

Percy nods. “Yeah, that was a bad move on his part, but. You know him, Piper. He’s going to wake up tomorrow with a horrible hangover, and apologize by making you pancakes, and you guys will talk about it, and then he’ll start singing the ABC’s to your belly and asking when it’ll start kicking.”

Piper giggles, the worry lines between her eyes fading a bit. “Yeah. Yeah, you’re right. Thanks, Percy.”

He offers a smile and squeezes her shoulder comfortingly. “You’re welcome. And congratulations, by the way.”

She grins a little, ducking her head. “Yeah, I’m pretty excited.”

Percy smiles. “I’d love to stay, but I’ve got a sleeping Alyssa in the car, and I’ve got to get back to Grover’s place before they get home.”

“Oh, yeah, you probably should do that,” she teases lightly, hugging him. “Goodnight, Percy. And thanks again.”

“Of course. Night,” he tells her with a quick smile, then heads outside into the cold air of early spring and driving the few blocks over to the Underwoods’ house. Quickly, he gets a mostly-sleeping Alyssa from her carseat and into her crib before collapsing onto the couch with a sigh.

It’s been a long night.

•

On his 35th birthday, Annabeth just grins when he asks her what they’re going to do. He touches her fingers, and when he opens his eyes, they’re at the Underwoods’ house.

“What?” he asks, a bit bewildered. “Why are we here?”

Annabeth shrugs. “I guess I kind of wanted to be… I don’t know. Not normal, I think, but I want you to show me around and stuff. Show me what you do in a day.”

A smiling blossoms slowly on his face. “Sure,” Percy agrees. “That’s a great idea. _When _are we?”

“Yesterday, at 3pm,” Annabeth answers, grinning.

Percy laughs. “Okay. So since yesterday was Friday and game night, I usually get here at about 4pm after school lets out…”

And so they watch, Percy reliving his memories from the day before. The two of them spend the entire afternoon watching as Juniper plays with Alyssa, as Percy gets to the house after school and reads books to Alyssa while Juniper takes a nap, as Grover gets home from work and sends Percy a grateful look before heading to the kitchen to make dinner.

Annabeth looks over his other self’s shoulder as he reads, and Percy watches, a little mesmerized. For one, it’s a little surreal to see himself a third-person point of view (like _wow,_ does his hair really look that bad in real life), but also… he loves the scene in front of him. Himself reading books to a wide-eyed Alyssa, Annabeth looking over his shoulder with a soft smile.

When Annabeth’s floated back to his side, there’s a wistful look on her face as she continues to watch him read to Alyssa. The little girl is chattering as she points to different pictures, and Percy watches himself laugh and tickle her.

“I wish we could have that,” she whispers, and Percy interlaces their fingers as she leans her head on his shoulder.

“I have everything I need,” he murmurs into her hair, and he feels her nod slowly.

They both know what he means, what he doesn’t say. It’s okay.

•

The next decade seems to speed by. Percy finds that as he gets older, time seems to go more quickly. When once a year had seemed like eternity, it now seems like almost nothing, looking back.

Piper and Jason’s first child ends up being _children, _as they have healthy, identical twin boys. The boys’ names are Jonathan and Avery, and they’re extremely curious and inquisitive kids. They both have their mom’s dark hair and olive skin with Jason’s bright blue eyes.

Less than a year after the boys are born, Grover and Juniper have a boy as well; they name him Benjamin, and he takes after his dad with curly red hair and pale, freckled skin. Percy adores his nephews and niece, and he spends far more time at the Graces and Underwoods’ homes than his own apartment in the city.

He continues to teach at the Same high school. Every once in a while, he’ll have an alumni come up to him in the grocery store and say, _hey, you were my favorite teacher, _and it always makes Percy’s week.

On his 46th birthday, he has a mini-breakdown, because _Annabeth I literally have a grey streak in my hair I’m getting old this is terrifying—_and Annabeth, who’s been aging along with him all these years, holds up one of her own curls and it’s a light grey.

“It’s okay, Percy,” she laughs, and Percy scowls grouchily, because she’s so _cute. _It’s not fair. “Grey is cool.”

“Yeah, but it looks _good _on you,” Percy sighs, letting his head fall into her lap. “I just look like an old geezer.”

She laughs again, throwing her head back, and Percy takes the opportunity to study her. There are laugh lines around her eyes now, and her hair is a little thinner, a little shorter than when he last saw her; she looks older, but it’s okay.

“You’re _my_ old geezer,” she tells him fondly, and he beams.

He’s getting old, but Annabeth’s getting old with him. It’ll be an adventure.

•

The spring before his 53rd birthday, Percy gets a call at 10pm while he’s grading, and his whole world comes crashing down on him.

Grover was hit by a drunk driver, and he was dead by the time the ambulance arrived.

Piper’s the one who calls him. He can hear Juniper sobbing in the background, and Piper’s voice is fragile and wobbly as she speaks, and all Percy wants to do is scream because _this isn’t happening this isn’t happening this isn’t happening—_but it _is, _it’s happening and it’s real.

Piper asks him to drive to NYU, because Alyssa is in her sophomore year in college now and doesn’t have a vehicle. The Grace boys—both juniors in high school—and Ben Underwood are all at a friend’s birthday party, and Piper says Jason’s on his way to go pick the three of them up.

Percy hangs up in a fog and gets into his car, beginning the drive to NYU. He calls Alyssa on the way, not telling her what happened, because she and her dad were so, so close, and Percy can’t tell her that her dad is dead over the phone. He _can’t._

“Hey, Uncle Percy,” she says when she hops into the passenger seat of the car, her short hair bouncing around her shoulders. “What’s up? Why am I going home for the night?”

Percy just stares at her hollowly, unable to speak, because he remembers when Grover was her age. He remembers when they were in college and had nothing to worry about beyond goofing off in the dorms and pop quizzes, and he knows she doesn’t deservethis, doesn’t deserve to be told that her father, her _world_, is gone right as she’s beginning her life_._

But then again, none of them do.

Alyssa seems to realize something’s wrong when he continues to be unable to speak, and worry clouds her expression. “Are Mama and Daddy alright? Oh no, did Ben get in trouble?”

Percy can feel the lump in his throat, and he tries to swallow, but he can’t.

“Uncle Percy, what’s wrong?” she asks, and Percy can feel his dam start to break.

“Your dad…” he begins. “Your dad was in an accident. Drunk driver.”

It sounds like something that would happen to someone else, never to him. Never about Grover. It doesn’t sound _real, _when he says it aloud, but it is.

Alyssa’s hand flies to cover her mouth, and he can see the horrible understanding start to dawn in her eyes, start to overwhelm her.

“He’s gone,” Percy finishes, and Alyssa chokes on a sob. “We—we all need you. At home,” he explains, and starts the car.

The ride home is silent; Alyssa seems shocked, like she was hit with a brick and is still caught in the surprise of it, not yet comprehending the pain. Percy keeps a straight face, trying to be strong for his niece. Inwardly his heart is breaking, shattering, because this is his _brother_, his best friend, and he has so many thousands of memories—Grover’s snorting laugh, his love of gardening, Grover and Juniper’s wedding, Alyssa’s birth—and they’re clogging his mind, threatening to choke him and bog him down with the incredible realization that his best friend is _gone. _

When they get to the Graces’ house, Alyssa runs inside, leaving Percy by himself, and he lays his head on the dashboard and _screams _until his throat is raw. He feels like shattered glass, unable to piece himself back together, but then he sees Juniper in the kitchen, and he knows he has to go inside.

Juniper meets him at the door and Percy clutches her desperately as she sobs into his shirt, feels his tears dampen her hair. He tries to remember the last words he ever heard his best friend say; it would have been that morning, when Grover called him before Percy left for work to ask him when he would be free for the five of them to go out for dinner, like old times. They’d somehow gotten started on their favorite kinds of pasta, and Percy had insisted on chicken alfredo, while Grover liked spaghetti with meatballs—_but dude, they have to be tur meatballs, do you know the living conditions of the cows they use for beef?—_and Percy had admitted that spaghetti and meatballs was, admittedly, pretty good.

(But not as good as chicken alfredo.)

Then Percy had had to leave for work, so they’d said good-bye, and Grover had said, “See you Thursday!” before hanging up.

Percy can’t believe the last words he’d ever heard his best friend say were _See you Thursday; _it feels like a slap in the face from Fate itself, taunting him with the fact that he would never see Grover again, never bicker over the best kind of pasta, never have another game night or relieve memories from years past.

Instead, he’s holding his brother’s wife as she sobs in his arms, a widow long before she should have been; he hears his niece crying in the kitchen, sees Jason and Piper rocking and holding each other.

This is their new reality, he realizes.

It’s funny, how big a hole one person can leave in the lives of so many others.

•

The funeral is held only a few days later. Once the steady stream of sympathetic friends have gone, leaving countless casseroles and flowers in their wake, Percy hugs his friends and the elder Underwoods. His and Grover’s parents are in their mid-eighties, and they live in Florida now, but they came up to NY for the funeral.

Finally, he goes back to his own apartment and just sits for hours, going through pictures. He finds photos from their college days, sometimes with the five of them—Grover, Jason, Piper, Juniper, and himself—and others are from more recent years. He even finds a few of them in middle and high school; there’s one of him, Grover and Jason with their arms around each other at summer camp, and another of an awkward, pre-pubescent Grover with Juniper when they starred in the school play together, before they even started dating.

He cries long and hard until he can’t cry anymore. In that moment, he’s not a fifty-two years old, and he’s just a nine-year-old boy whose mother just died, meeting his foster family for the first time.

He remembers how he thought Grover looked like a strawberry, with his bright red hair and scattered freckles; remembers how the first night he spent at the Underwoods’ house, he and Grover spent all night having a _Lord of the Rings _marathon and eating cookies. Percy remembers the long days at the beach and building ridiculously huge Lego sets; he remembers how Grover hated Doritos, and Percy would eat the chips in front of him, chewing obnoxiously loud, just to annoy him.

Percy spends all night going through more photos, reliving memories, and falls into a restless sleep in the wee hours of the morning.

•

About a month later, Percy and the Graces are at the Underwoods for dinner, and Jason says something, and Juniper laughs for the first time since the accident. The whole table freezes for a second, because Juniper’s been in her own little world since Grover’s death, barely sleeping, never smiling, and now—

And now she’s laughing. Cautiously, the rest of the table joins in until they’re all gasping for breath, and then someone will start giggling and the whole table with erupt again. Percy knows whatever Jason said wasn’t even that funny_, _but they’re just laughing at nothing now, and it feels _good, _because Grover loved to laugh and Percy knows he would never have wanted the people he loved most in the world to mourn him forever.

As he looks around the table from person to person, from Jason’s wide grin and Piper’s gentle smile, to Alyssa’s dimples and the twins’ sparkling blue eyes, to Ben’s soft chuckle and the laugh lines reappearing in Juniper’s face—

He thinks they’re going to be okay.

•

They’re not perfect immediately, of course. Ben still has the occasional day where he refuses to get out of bed, and Juniper’s once-bright smile now only makes a rare appearance. Jason will be in the middle of a joke when his face falls and he’ll trail off, not finishing, and Piper will squeeze his hand fiercely.

But it’s okay. They’re getting better.

That August on his 53rd birthday, less than six months after Grover’s death, Percy cries as he tells Annabeth about it, and she’s crying too; Percy knows that she barely even knew Grover other than meeting him briefly at his wedding and Percy’s stories, but. He’s still hurting, mourning the loss of his best friend, and Annabeth’s hurting with him. It helps, and he loves her.

Annabeth takes him back to his 21st birthday that he celebrated with Grover and Jason; they watch as Grover brings out the tiny, lopsided cake he had baked in their microwave, and Jason plays _Happy Birthday _on a kazoo, and Percy’s younger self is laughing with delight and doesn’t have a care in the world.

Percy watches himself and his friends celebrate, and feels the hole in his chest close just a little bit, remembering all their good memories, how much they loved each other.

He’s broken, but he’s healing.

•

The July before Percy’s 61st birthday, Alyssa gets married to a man she met her junior year of college; they’ve been dating for six years, and engaged for a year.

The young man, Daniel, is an engineer, and Percy had been the first person Alyssa had told when Daniel asked her out. Ever since Grover’s death, Percy’s been especially protective of Alyssa, and he secretly relishes in the fact that Daniel’s a little scared of him.

_Yeah, that’s right, buddy, _he wants to say. _You hurt Alyssa and you’d better be afraid of me._

However, Percy doesn’t think he’ll ever have to actually use the threat. Daniel treats Alyssa with the utmost respect, and Alyssa confided in Percy that she loved Daniel only a few months after they started dating, so.

They have a beach wedding, and the weather is perfect, and Percy walks Alyssa down the aisle. He cries beforehand, because _Grover should be here, _he never even got to meet his daughter’s husband—but pretty much everyone’s crying by the time Percy and Alyssa begin walking.

He tells Annabeth all about it on his birthday, and she smiles, the wrinkles in her face crinkling. “How about we just go there instead?”

It’s been a few years since they traveled anywhere. Lately, Percy’s begun feeling more tired after little exertions, and time traveling takes a lot out of him, but—this is worth it.

They arrive just as Percy’s beginning to walk Alyssa down the aisle, and Annabeth chuckles a little bit beside him. “You’re an ugly crier,” she tells him brightly, and Percy snorts.

“Well, thanks_,_” he says, dry. “Appreciate it.”

After they’ve watched the ceremony, Annabeth motions for Percy to come down to the water. “Come on,” she says, beckoning, and Percy pulls off his shoes and socks before joining her down at the shore.

They watch the beginnings of the sunset over the water in silence, and Percy glances down at Annabeth next to him. Her face is wrinkled, and a couple age spots dot her tan skin. Her light grey curls blow in the wind, cut right below her ears.

She looks almost nothing like the bossy little girl Percy met when he was nine, at least, not until he sees her eyes, bright and piercing grey. A million memories flood his mind—the conversations they’ve had and the places they’ve gone and the things they’ve done.

_Together._

Annabeth seems to feel his eyes on her and looks up; the sun glints on the tiny specks of blue in the grey, and Percy feels her hand slide into his.

He leans down, kisses her; he feels her laugh against his lips, run her hands through his salt-and-pepper hair. “I love you, you know that?” he asks.

She squeezes his hand—once, twice; “I know,” she says, and together they watch the sunset.

•

_It’s funny, how times change, _Percy muses on his 78th birthday as he carefully sticks a random amount of aqua-blue candles into a little cake he got at the local bakery. He remembers all the other times he’s done this, all the times he’s blown out a couple candles and Annabeth’s jerked him out of the descent so they can spend the day together.

Today is no different; he blows out the candle, feels like he’s falling, and then stops in the Time Vortex, and Annabeth’s in front of him.

“Hey,” she says, kissing him softly. As she pulls back, Percy studies her; her curls are short and get lighter every year, so he expects they’ll eventually be white. Her face is wrinkled, just like his, and age spots dot her fragile hands as she hugs him.

Percy pulls her close, burying his face in her neck; she still smells like vanilla, and it’s warm and familiar, and kind of feels like coming home. He supposes it’s one blessing that even if she isn’t human, she can still alter her appearance to age right alongside him.

She pulls back, studying him, and Percy thinks she gets more beautiful every year he sees her, every precious day they have together.

“Hey, ‘beth,” he greets her quietly.

“How’s life?” she asks as they settle on the floor of the Time Vortex.

Percy considers. “Well, my arthritis has been acting up lately, which, you know. Annoying. I went out for lunch with Alyssa and Daniel yesterday, and she’s pregnant with their fourth, now.”

Annabeth rests her head on his shoulder, and the weight is comforting. “That’s really great. I’m so happy for them.”

“Yeah,” Percy replies, grinning a little. He kind of spoils his great-nephews and nieces; it’s a well-known and well-milked fact in the family. “Ben and his girlfriend are getting married next spring. Avery’s daughter, Jessica, is two now, and she loves going to the park with _Unca’ Percy._”

He feels Annabeth chuckle. “You’ve always been good with the kids, Percy.”

Percy smiles, ducking his head. “Yeah, they’re all pretty fun. I went out for lunch with Jason and Pipes and Juniper last week, and we’re having a game night this Friday.” Not much has changed in their friendship over the years; the four of them meet up for coffee or lunch often, talking about latest events or all the kids. Memories of Grover are relieved with soft smiles and sometimes even laughs.

Percy continues, “Jonathan’s off in South America, filming a movie or some other project like that, I can’t really remember. He was extremely excited about it though, before he left, so I guess I’ll be hearing about it when he gets back in about a month.”

Annabeth hums. “That sounds interesting. I saw a documentary once…” and she continues into an explanation of endangered animals in South America, complete with statistics from the last century and how pollution’s affected the environment and global warming. Percy doesn’t understand half of what she’s talking about, but he watches her sappily as she talks, because he loves her and she continues to be his lifeline, even after all these years.

•

On his 87th birthday, it’s for the first time since—well, _ever, _that Percy dreads meeting Annabeth.

He feels that familiar fall and blackness as the candles whoosh out, and then Annabeth’s in front of him. Her short, thin curls are snow-white around her ears now, and she walks with a fragility, like she could fall on any step she takes.

It doesn’t seem to stop her from hugging him tightly, kissing him, and Percy kisses her back, trying to put off the news he’s brought.

She steps back, tottering like she might fall. Percy knows how she feels, at least when she takes this form for him; he feels the Same way every time he stands up. Everyday tasks are a hindrance now, sometimes impossible, and he hates it, hates this feeling that he’s useless and can’t do anything.

He, Jason, and Juniper made a combined decision a few years back to move into a care home together. After Piper died peacefully in her sleep a couple months after Percy turned 83, Jason still couldn’t bear to live in the house anymore. The five of them—Grover, Jason, Percy, Juniper, and Piper—had sworn, back in their early fifties, to never move into a nursing home, but. That was before they realized what it was like to be _old_.

Honestly, getting old is a pain in the butt. Percy wouldn’t recommend it.

He brings his thoughts back to the present as the deep creases between Annabeth’s probing grey eyes wrinkle with concern, because of course, she _knows _him, knows something is weighing on his shoulders. “Percy, what’s wrong?”

The lump in his throat grows too large for him to speak, and he simply gazes at her, because _how much time do we have left—_

“I had a doctor’s appointment last week,” he begins carefully.

Annabeth’s smart enough to know what’s coming, and Percy watches her face as she begins to put the pieces together.

“They got the results of the tests back, and I have lung cancer,” he tells her. “A few more months, a year, maybe two at the most—that’s all I have left.”

Her papery-thin hand covers her mouth, and she chokes on a sob. “Percy… are you sure?”

He nods. “Yeah, the medicine these days is incredible, but cancer is one of those things that they still haven’t found a cure for. And Annabeth—I’m almost _ninety_. I get a cold or a virus, and I’m basically guaranteed a prolonged stay in the hospital, at best.”

Annabeth squeezes his hand firmly. “You’ve got that tone in your voice, that sounds like you’re going to give up,” she points out, and Percy sighs.

“It’s just—_hard, _‘beth. There’s so much I can’t do, and Jason’s Alzheimer’s is getting worse. Every day, I feel like I’m going to wake up, and my best friend won’t remember who I am anymore. Juniper’s got her kids, and her grandchildren, but—”

“But you have me,” she supplies fiercely. “And I want every second I can get with you, Percyuel Jackson-Underwood, so don’t you _dare _just—just _give_ _up_.”

Percy squeezes her hand. His heart aches with the realization that this could be the last time he sees her, that every birthday he has left is numbered. “You know I won’t, Annabeth,” he whispers. “But someday…it’s not going to be my choice. I’m old, and sick. There’s only so much time that we have left.”

She nods, tears glistening and beginning to spill over onto her wrinkled cheeks. “Just—stay with me for now?” she begs, and Percy nods, pulling her close as she leans her head on his shoulder.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

•

And he doesn’t, for a while—he holds on as long as he can. The doctors are all amazed at how he struggles against the cancer, defying their expectations and prophesied timeline for his life.

But there’s only so much Percy can do, and when he contracts pneumonia a few weeks before his 92nd birthday and immediately goes into the hospital, he knows, deep down, that he won’t be coming out again.

Jason died the year before, his memory in shambles; it hurt, it hurt _so bad _when Percy said hello to him one morning at breakfast, and Jason asked, “Who are you?” Percy’s almost glad his friend went peacefully, and he and Juniper were at Jason’s bedside as his best friend slipped away early one morning.

Juniper, who’s in incredible health for her age, visits him in the hospital often, but Percy can tell that she, too, knows it’s getting close to the end.

Alyssa and Daniel, with their four children, visit him a few days before his birthday; then comes Ben and his wife, and the two kids they’ve adopted, chattering and laughing. Jonathan shows him his latest photography and cinematography ventures, and talks shyly about a girl he’s been seeing. Avery and his wife Rebecca and their daughter Jessica visit too, Jessica telling him excitedly about her freshman year of college and everything she’s doing.

Percy may not have been able to get married or have his own kids, and he might not _technically_ be related to these people by blood, but he loves his family so incredibly much.

Now, though, it’s the wee hours of the morning on his 92nd birthday, and Percy knows he’s dying, and he knows what he has to do.

He doesn’t even have the strength to light the candles; he’s forced to press the button to call for a nurse, and she comes in, all bright smiles and chit-chat. She checks his vitals, and a shadow passes over her face. Percy knows what it means, when she asks if there’s anyone he wants her to call, but he just shakes his head. He’s said his goodbyes, and he’d rather have it like this.

The nurse nods, and Percy asks her _can you get the candles and light a few, please—_and she humors him, amused at his request. She lights a couple candles, sticking them into a chocolate pudding cup—_some things never change, no matter how much time goes by,_ Percy muses—and he thanks her as she leaves; she squeezes his hand before closing the door.

And then he gathers his last bit of strength, pulls off the oxygen mask, and blows out the flickering flames.

Immediately everything goes dark and he feels like he’s falling, and Percy knows it’s the last time he’ll ever experience the thrill of time traveling, the familiar jerk of Annabeth pulling him into the Time Vortex.

She knows, too; he can see in on her face, in the weary, trembling way she stands, in the way her face crumples and her shoulders shake as she hugs him.

“Annabeth,” he says, and the burning pain in his lungs forces him to bend over, fall to the ground with coughing.

“Shh, shh,” she tells him, bending over him with tears running down her deeply wrinkled face. “Don’t try to talk, Percy, don’t—”

He reaches up, touches her face above him; the clear grey eyes, the only thing that hasn’t changed about her, gleam down at him, bright with tears, and he loves her so much.

Percy doesn’t _want_ to die, but since he’s old and death’s inevitable, well—he wants to be near her.

_Making every second count._

“I love you,” he coughs, and Annabeth’s sobbing brokenly now, her voice hoarse.

“I love you too,” she says, and the brokenness in her voice physically _hurts_ him, hurts worse than the shooting pain as he struggles to take a breath, hurts worse than anything he’s gone through in his life, because—he’s leaving her _alone_, and for the first time, their promise—_next year—_and the touch of her hand will mean nothing, because he’ll be gone.

“I’m going to do something,” he thinks he hears her say, and his mind twists in confusion, because _what could she do that would help anything now—_

His vision goes fuzzier than normal, and there’s a roaring in his ears. Percy looks up and sees Annabeth bursting with white light that spills out into the blackness of the Time Vortex, blindingly lighting everything in sight until his whole vision is just blank, burning whiteness.

The last thing he sees is a pair of clear grey eyes; he hears Annabeth’s laugh, loud and bright and joyful, and everything stops.

•

And then he wakes up.

Percy lays perfectly still for a moment, completely disoriented, before cautiously opening his eyes.

He’s in bed, in a bright blue room; there are posters on the walls and glowing stars on the ceiling, and morning sunshine is spilling through the window into the blue sheets.

Percy sits up, and there’s something in the back of his brain, but no matter what he does he can’t remember it, so. He shrugs and hops out of bed.

He catches sight of himself in the mirror as he passes, and Percy comes to a screeching halt for a second, staring at his reflection. His skin’s smooth and tan, and his hair black and shaggy; he’s short and scrawny and he’s wearing blue pajamas with sharks on them.

For a minute, he’s absurdly shocked, and then shakes his head at himself; why is he _surprised_ by what he looks like? Whatever dream he had must have been weird, if he’s startled by his reflection in the mirror.

Percy skips out the door and pads down the stairs; he hears quiet voices and laughter coming from the kitchen, mixed in with good smells floating in the air.

He peeks into the kitchen and sees his mom, her long brown hair swaying in a ponytail as she laughs at something his dad says. When she turns, she catches sight of him and holds out her arms, a bright smile on her face. “It’s the birthday boy!”

Percy runs and hugs her; she smells like flowery shampoo and pancakes. “Morning, mama,” he says, yawning.

“Hey, squirt,” a deep voice says as a hand comes up and ruffles his hair. Percy grins as he turns around and meets his dad’s eyes, seeing the bright sea-green that are the exact Same shade as his.

“Hey, daddy,” he says, giving his dad a hug too. He smells like wind and sweat, and Percy knows he probably went for a run earlier that morning.

“How does it feel to be nine years old? You’re getting to be a regular old man these days,” his dad says, a bright grin on his face as he takes a plate from Sally. The three of them sit down at the table, and Percy’s mom slides a plate of chocolate-chip pancakes—his _favorite_—in front of him. The chocolate chips are in the shape of a smiley-face, and Percy grins as he takes a bite.

“Pretty much the Same,” he answers around a mouthful, chugging the glass of milk his mom hands him.

“Chew with your mouth closed, sweetheart,” his mom admonishes, rolling her eyes.

“Aw, it’s his birthday, Sal,” his dad says, grinning. “Let him live a little.”

Now it’s Percy who’s rolling his eyes; his parents are sending each other affectionate smiles, and just. _Ew. _They’re so gross.

Just then, the doorbell rings. “Can I get it?” Percy asks as he stuffs the last of his pancakes into his mouth. “Jason and Grover said they were going to stop by before school to give me their presents.”

“Sure, honey,” his mom replies, getting up to refill her coffee. “Poseidon, did you remember to pick up more cream at the store yesterday?”

His dad shrugs guiltily. “Uh, about that…”

Percy laughs as he trots down the hallway to the front door, his parents’ voices fading into the background. “Hey guys,” he begins as he throws open the door, expecting to be hit with shouts of _Happy Birthday! _and maybe candy, if he’s lucky.

Instead, there’s a _girl_ on the doorstep, a girl Percy’s never seen before; she has short dark hair and she’s tapping her foot impatiently until she hears the door open and glances up.

_Annabeth_, his mind whispers when he meets her piercing grey eyes, before he pushes the thought away, slightly confused about where it came from.

“Uh, hi,” Percy says awkwardly, remembering his manners. “I’m Percy.”

“Hello,” she says, raising an eyebrow, and it’s strangely familiar; Percy thinks she’s pretty, in an absent-minded way, and he blushes at the thought.

“I’m Annabeth, and I just moved into the house next door,” she introduces herself with a little grin, and holds out her hand.

(He touches her fingers, and it feels like a beginning.)

•


End file.
